What's My Name?
by Sparks
Summary: Set four years after ‘Becoming’ part two. Buffy ran away, and didn’t come back. Now, four years later, she’s about to be reminded of who and what she really is.
1. Prologue

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: R. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: None of it's mine. Well, actually, a fair amount of it's mine, but none of the characters you know and recognise. In this chapter, that'd be just Buffy. Hattie, Ella and Marian are all creations of my mind. Oh, and Popeye also isn't mine...lol.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Just a prologue to set things up. I've got over sixty pages of this written, so updates will for a while be fairly frequent. (Being on crutches allows for a whole lot of fic-writing...)

* * *

Prologue

* * *

"And then he left. I'm so scared, Annie, I don't know what to do."

Buffy gathered her wits about her. "You get a bag packed and get over here, poste haste. You get me?" One-handed, she gathered up the breakfast dishes and stacked them next to the dishwasher. "I don't want any arguments about it, Ella. Get yourself over here, and Marian too."

"Y-you sure?" came the querulous question over the phone.

"Damn straight. Get packing, girl."

"I'll be there in...an hour? Or two?"

"Okay," Buffy nodded. "I'll be here. Love you, sweetie."

"Love you too."

"Everything's gonna work out just fine," Buffy assured her friend. "We'll go see Michelle later, alright, and tell her what's happened, and she'll get the legal stuff in place."

"Oh, Annie, I don't know how to thank you," Ella told her.

"You can make me some of your delicious brownies," came the dry answer. "Get packing, Ella." She put the phone down just as a handful of raisins came spraying at her. "Harriet Eve Robinson, what have I told you about playing with your food?" The blue-eyed toddler gave her most innocent smile and grasped a piece of toast between her fingers. "Sweetie, eat your food, please, or you won't get your dessert."

"Ice cream?" Hattie asked, eyes lighting up.

Buffy laughed. "No, Hattie, not at breakfast. Eat your toast, please."

"Where you going, mommy?" the child demanded, pouting a little. Buffy filled her bottle with watered down juice. "Want cranb'rey."

"Well, you're getting apple," Buffy said calmly, hoping to forestall a tantrum. "We ran out of cranberry yesterday. I'll buy some more when I shop, okay? And I'm going to set up the guest room. Auntie Ella and baby Marian are coming to stay for a bit."

Hattie frowned. "Tom too?"

Buffy hesitated for a moment. "No, sweetie, not this time."

Hattie nodded in satisfaction. "When they coming?"

"Later, once you've had your breakfast." Buffy put the beaker on the table near her daughter. "But they'll only play with you if you're a very good girl and help me tidy up the lounge when you've eaten."

"Yes, mommy."

"Good girl. I'll be back in a minute."

Leaving her daughter to hopefully eat, not paint the walls with peanut butter and raisins, Buffy – or Annie, as she was now called – ascended the stairs to the first floor.

Four years, she mused as she pulled clean sheets from the linen closet, was really a very long time. Four years and she had a good job, good friends, a decent house, and the most wonderful daughter any mother could wish for. Except it wasn't really four years, was it? her inner voice demanded of her. She shoved it away fiercely.

Hattie's old cot was still in the guest room, so Buffy only had to put sheets on it, which she did quickly. She'd had plenty of practice over the years.

The phone rang again as she was coming down the stairs, dirty sheets from her own bed bundled in her arms. She dropped them by the washer and picked up the phone, smiling at Hattie as the three-year-old carefully wiped her fingers on the washcloth waiting for her on the table.

"Robinson residence," she said. "Annie speaking."

"Annie? It's Janet."

Buffy winced and motioned for Hattie to go play in the lounge. "Hi, Janet. How did it go with your dad?"

"Um, not very well. Sorry...sorry to call you on a Sunday, but I just...really needed to talk to someone, and I couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"It's okay, Janet, that's what I'm here for." She sat down at the kitchen table and pulled her notepad towards her. "What happened?"

She spent the next half hour soothing the upset teenager, whilst Hattie made who knew what kind of mess in the lounge. When Janet finally rang off, she could hear the television.

"Hattie, I told you, no television before lunch," she called out as she went through to the lounge. The sight that greeted her made her smile.

"I tidied!" Hattie told her proudly. "An' I didn't want to make mess."

"So you put the television on? Smart idea." She opened her arms and gathered her daughter up. "Wow, you're getting so big. What have you been eating?"

"Spinach like Popeye," Hattie grinned, showing her teeth. "And lotsa fruit an' vegetables." She wriggled out of Buffy's arms impatiently. "Mommy, will you read to me?"

"Alright, but only until Auntie Ella gets here, alright?"

* * *

Like it? Loathe it? Don't understand a word? Leave a review.

Coming next chapter:

Some familiar friends pop in to visit

Buffy relives some memories


	2. Memories

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13 for now. Language and themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: After such an enthusiastic response (ha ha) I just had to put up another chapter. Buffy runs into some old 'friends' whilst patrolling.

* * *

Chapter One: Memories

* * *

She didn't patrol properly that evening, all too aware of her responsibilities that weren't demon related. There wasn't much vampire activity in this town, anyway. She still patrolled when she could, but it just wasn't as much a part of her life anymore.

It hadn't been for four years, not since she'd left Sunnydale and all her memories behind. Except that she hadn't, not really. There would always be a part of her that belonged in Sunnydale, just as part of her would always belong in LA, and a part that belonged - . But for now she belonged here, counsellor at the local high school and single mother to a three-year-old.

She smiled wryly as she twirled her stake between her fingers. Doomed to live her mother's life, indeed.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she sang softly, just under her breath. She knew there were some vampires around somewhere. A pseudo-master had moved in and was trying to set up shop. "Not in my town, buster," she muttered. "Come out, already. I want my ice cream."

She wouldn't go home without staking at least one. That was her rule. She was still the Slayer, after all. She had a job to do.

"It just doesn't pay the bills, or the mortgage, or anything else," she told a headstone wearily, sitting down on it and swinging her legs. Thank whatever gods existed that Principal Edwards was a decent man, who actually gave a damn about his students. There was a qualified councillor already at the high school, he'd explained to her when she'd gone to the interview, but he wanted someone younger as well, someone more in touch with the students. Since she was only just eighteen at the time, she fitted the bill, and the students seemed to want to talk to her more and more now.

Now at twenty-two, she was studying part-time to become a fully-trained psychologist, as well as taking care of Hattie, and Ella whenever Tom got violent.

Which, she admitted, was getting more and more often. Something seriously needed to be done. If only he was a demon. She would really enjoy beating him up for the pain he was putting her best friend through.

Something rustled in the thickly wooded area at the back of the cemetery, and her head whipped around. Looked like she was going to get to beat something up after all, and just as she'd been about to give up, too.

"Hey, is there someone back there?" she called out in her best little-innocent-girl voice. "Hello?" There was a muted curse and a low growl. Bingo. Vampires, two of them. "Hey, come out here." No answer. She was starting to get annoyed. Starting? Hell, she'd been annoyed ever since Hattie had managed to spill an entire bowl of ice cream on her nice new couch. "If you don't come out here, I'm gonna come in and get you, and you really don't want me to do that," she warned. Again there was no answer, then the two vampires came barrelling out of the bushes towards her.

It was over in moments. "Stupid vampires," she muttered, disgruntled. "Couldn't even put up a good fight." She checked her watch; she'd kept an eye on the time all evening, because she had work in the morning and besides, she wasn't keen on leaving Ella for too long, not with the bruises all over her. "Hey-ho, it's home we go," she murmured.

"You've been watching way too many kiddie shows, Slayer."

She knew that voice. She remembered that voice. The breath stopped in her throat for a second, then she whirled around. Her blow was stopped by the blond vampire who had, it seemed, appeared out of nowhere.

"Or maybe that's as much intelligence as your brain can handle," he suggested. "Cartoons. I know Harris can't stand adult things."

Buffy couldn't find any words. Harris. Xander. It'd been too long since she'd thought of him. The name was unfamiliar in her mouth.

"Get the hell away from me," she said coolly. "Before I stake you. You have one chance. I see you again, you're dust." Then she did what she'd always been told not to do. She turned her back on a master vampire. "You never saw me, Spike," she warned.

Within seconds he was in front of her, yellowed eyes flashing in anger and hatred. "I came here for you, Slayer. You're needed."

Buffy scoffed. "Yeah, sure I am. By my employers and my family. Get out of here." Why the hell wasn't she staking him already? part of her demanded incredulously. Because of the other presence she felt near, the presence she would never be able to forget.

"Your family's back in Sunnydale, you bint," Spike snarled.

"Not for years, Spike. Giles, come out already."

Giles emerged from behind a stout oak tree. The three looked at each other; vampire, slayer, watcher.

"I have to go," Buffy announced after a long, tension-filled moment. "I'm expected at home."

"Buffy, please, just listen to us," Giles said quickly as she started walking away.

"My name is Annie," Buffy corrected him coolly. "Stay out of my life, Watcher. And keep the vampire on a leash."

As soon as she was out of their sight she started trembling. Memories flooded back to her, each more unwelcome than the last.

"_Into each generation a Slayer is born, one girl in all the world, a Chosen One, one born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires..."_

"_So what do you do for fun, what do you like, what do you look for in a man, let's hear it."  
_"_If you have any dark, painful secrets you'd like us to publish?"  
_"_Gee, everyone wants to know about me. How keen."  
_"_Well, not much goes on in a one Starbucks town like Sunnydale. You're pretty big news."_

"_I don't suppose you've got a key on you?"  
_"_They really don't like me dropping in."  
_"_Why not?"  
__"They really don't like me."  
_"_How could that possibly be?"  
_"_I knew you'd figure out this entryway sooner or later. Actually, I thought it was gonna be a little sooner."  
_"_Sorry you had to wait. Okay. Look, if you're gonna be popping up with this Cryptic Wise Man act on a regular basis, can you at least tell me your name?"  
_"_Angel."_

"_I invited you into my home and then you attacked my family!"  
_"_Why not? I killed mine. I killed their friends... and their friend's children... For a hundred years I offered ugly death to everyone I met, and I did it with a song in my heart."  
_"_What changed?"  
_"_Fed on a girl about your age... beautiful... dumb as a post... but a favourite among her clan."  
_"_Her clan?"  
_"_Romany. Gypsies. The elders conjured the perfect punishment for me. They restored my soul."  
__"What, they were all out of boils and blinding torment?"  
_"_When you become a vampire the demon takes your body, but it doesn't get your soul. That's gone! No conscience, no remorse... It's an easy way to live. You have no idea what it's like to have done the things I've done... and to care. I haven't fed on a living human being since that day."_

"_So that's it, huh? I remember the drill. One Slayer dies, next one's called! Wonder who she is. Will you train her? Or will they send someone else?"  
_"_Buffy, I..."  
_"_They say how he's gonna kill me? Do you think it'll hurt? Don't touch me! Were you even gonna tell me?"  
_"_I was hoping that I wouldn't have to. That there was... some way around it. I..."  
_"_I've got a way around it. I quit!"  
_"_It's not that simple."_

_  
_"_Nice work, love."  
_"_Who are you?"  
_"_You'll find out on Saturday."  
_"_What happens on Saturday?"  
__"I kill you."_

"_I told one lie, I had one drink."  
_"_Yes, and you were very nearly devoured by a giant demon snake. The words 'let that be a lesson' are a tad redundant at this juncture."  
_"_I'm sorry."  
_"_So am I. I... I drive you too hard because I-I know what you have to face. From now on no, no more pushing, no more prodding. Just, uh, an inordinate amount of nudging."_

"_I'd rather be fightin' you anyway."  
_"_Mutual."_

"_You know, polite people call before they jump out of the bushes and attack you."  
_"_Just wanted to test your reflexes."  
_"_How about testing my face-punching? 'Cause I think you'll find it's improved."_

"_Hello, lover. I wasn't sure you'd come."_  
"_After your immolation-o-gram? Come on, I had to show. Shouldn't you be out destroying the world right now, pulling the sword out of Al Franken or whatever his name is?"  
_"_There's time enough. I wanted to say goodbye first. You are the one thing in this dimension I will miss."  
_"_This is a beautiful moment we're having. Can we please fight?"_

"_You want to go around, pet, I'll have a gay old time of it. You want to stop Angel... we're gonna have to play this a bit differently."  
_"_What are you talking about?"  
_"_I'm talking about your ex, pet. I'm talking about putting him in the bloody ground."  
_"_This has gotta be the lamest trick you guys have ever thought up."  
_"_He's got your Watcher. Right now, he's probably torturing him."  
_"_What do you want?"  
__"I told you. I want to stop Angel. I want to save the world."_

"_All right, talk. What's the deal?"  
_"_Simple. You let me and Dru skip town, I help you kill Angel."  
__"Forget about Drusilla. She doesn't walk."  
_"_There's no deal without Dru."  
_"_She killed Kendra."  
_"_Dru bagged a Slayer? She didn't tell me! Hey, good for her! Though not from your perspective, I suppose."  
_"_I can't believe I invited you into my house."_

"_Well, it stops now!"  
_"_No, it doesn't stop! It never stops! Do-do you think I chose to be like this? Do you have any idea how lonely it is, how dangerous? I would love to be upstairs watching TV or gossiping about boys or... God, even studying! But I have to save the world... again."  
_"_No. This is insane. Buffy, you need help."  
_"_I'm not crazy! What I need is for you to chill. I have to go!"  
_"_No. I am not letting you out of this house."  
_"_You can't stop me."  
_"_Oh yes I... You walk out of this house, don't even think about coming back!"_

"_Now that's everything, huh? No weapons... No friends... No hope. Take all that away... and what's left?"  
_"_Me."_

"_What's happening?"  
_"_Shh. Don't worry about it. I love you."  
_"_I love you."  
_"_Close your eyes."_

And another memory, more pervasive even than that of her seventeenth birthday, insinuating itself into her mind and body...

Not even Angel had made her as hot as _he _had, during that one foolish hour. Not any of her other lovers, either.

She ran the last half mile, trying to pound it all out and into the tarmac. Why the hell were they here? Why now? Why, after all this time?

Her family needed her, Spike had said. But her family was here now. Hattie, and Ella and Marian, and the kids at her school – they were her family now. More of a family than her father had been, more even than her mother had been. They supported her choices and respected her as her own person.

She didn't even notice the car that came out of the darkness. Too caught up in her own thoughts, she only looked up once she'd reached her house, and then she only caught a glimpse of the lights before the car hit her, and everything went black.

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box...

Coming next chapter:

Spike and Giles meet Ella and Hattie

Buffy's lover makes an appearance


	3. Confrontations

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13 for the moment. Language and themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thank you all for the nice reviews. Just to let you know, I've got about twelve more chapters of this written. I'll be putting up a new chapter probably every day, or when I finish writing a chapter. I want to stay ahead in case some other crisis happens in that dread thing called Real Life. As the wise lady said, life is hard.

* * *

Chapter Two: Confrontations

* * *

"Is she okay?"

"I think she's waking up."

"Annie? Annie, girlfriend, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," she managed, not opening her eyes. "Ella?"

The unspoken request was answered; Ella bent and kissed her friend, giving her the reassurance she sometimes craved so much. Buffy opened her eyes then, and sat up without too much difficulty. She was lying on her own couch, in her own home. Ella knelt on the floor next to her; Spike and Giles were standing above her, contempt etched on one face and concern on the other.

"What are they doing in here?" Buffy demanded of Ella in a low voice.

"They found you, brought you in," Ella told her. "Annie, what happened? You lost focus..."

"I guess I'm tired," Buffy said tightly. "Car hit me, right? That I remember." She rose and faced the two Brits. "Thank you. Now get out of my house."

"Buffy –"Giles started.

"No. Out. Now."

"Mommy?"

All heads swivelled towards the stairway as Hattie, red curls tousled around her face, padded down. "Mommy, I couldn't sleep," she complained. "You noisy."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry," Buffy said, guilt flooding through her. She crouched and hugged her daughter. "Come on, let's do another bedtime story, okay? And we'll chase the monsters away, how about that?"

Hattie looked at the two strangers in her house, frowning slightly, before looking at her mother. "You hurt?" she asked in a small voice. "Nasty men hurt mommy?"

"No, sweetheart, I just fell down, that's all. Come on, off to bed."

"Who's that?" Hattie demanded, pointing at Spike. "He's old."

Buffy grabbed Hattie's finger and swung it away, down at the floor, slightly pale. "We never, ever, ever point at people," she admonished, a harsh note in her voice. "Ever! Do you understand me, Harriet?" Hattie's lower lip quivered as she nodded. Buffy gathered her up into a hug. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but you know we have to be very careful, don't you?"

"Yes, mommy," Hattie murmured. She was clearly exhausted. Buffy didn't for one minute believe that they'd been keeping her awake after the huge yawn she gave. "Want a story."

Buffy glanced at Spike and Giles, who were both watching her with differing degrees of shock. She turned to Ella. "Ella, would you –"

"Of course," Ella said quickly, taking Hattie. "C'mon, honey, let's go find a good story, huh? And maybe give Marian a goodnight kiss too." They disappeared up the stairs, and Buffy collapsed back onto the couch.

"So," she said quietly. "Why are you here? The truth, and all of it, before I throw you out. And keep it down. I would like Hattie to be moderately awake for her music group tomorrow."

Giles sat down and took his glasses off to clean them. Buffy gave a small smile. Some things never changed.

"That – that girl was your daughter?" he stuttered. Buffy nodded. "Good Lord."

"It's not an apocalyptic event," Buffy said quietly. "I'm not the first Slayer to have a child. I won't be the last." She glanced at the blond vampire leaning up against the wall. "Spike killed one of them, in the seventies." She rose and stretched her back. Sitting hunched at a computer half the day wasn't doing her any favours. "Anything else? I'm tired."

"Buffy, you're needed in Sunnydale," Giles said after a moment. "We've been managing as best we can, with the two Slayers that have been called since Kendra...but this is...worse than anything we've faced."

"Oh, and you decide _now_, after four years, that you need to come crying to me?" Buffy demanded, slightly sickened. "Well, I'm not playing."

"Dawn needs you, Slayer," Spike said after a tense moment. "Your mum's dead, and your sister needs you."

Buffy gave him an odd look. "Spike, I don't have a sister. Never have done. Only child right from the start." Her mind caught up. "Mom's dead?" she demanded in a small voice.

"Yes," Giles affirmed. "She's dead. And you weren't there."

"I will not stand here and listen to accusations in my own home," Buffy warned him, steel hidden under her soft tone. "Get out."

"Slayer –"

"Out, Spike!"

Someone knocked lightly on the door. Buffy didn't move; a moment later a key turned in the lock and her best friend, mentor and supporter walked in.

"Annie, are you alright?" he inquired. "The neighbour said there'd been an accident..." He trailed off as he saw the occupants of the room. "Ah. Rupert."

Buffy crossed the room and hugged him tight. "They turned up this evening," she murmured. "The spells are wearing off."

Ethan nodded, eyes remaining on Giles. "You alright, love?" he asked again in a low voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Get them out? Please?"

Giles found his voice. "Ethan Rayne. Why the hell are you here?"

Ethan wrapped an arm around Buffy's waist. "Visiting a friend," he said succinctly. "Better excuse than you, Ripper. And bringing a vampire along? Getting sloppy in our old age, are we?"

"Ethan, stop baiting him," Buffy said quietly.

"Would someone explain to me what the bloody hell is going on?" Spike demanded in a loud voice. "The Slayer got herself knocked up, she doesn't remember her sister, she's living with a sorcerer and apparently is gay – what hell dimension is this?"

"It's called Earth, Spike," Giles said wearily. "Just shut up."

"Please do," Ethan agreed. "There are children asleep upstairs, you know."

Giles faltered. "Children? Plural?"

Buffy gave him a scathing look. "One's Ella's." She looked up at Ethan. "She's staying here for a while, until we can get a restraining order on Tom. He beat her again. Can you help me heal her, later?"

Ethan looked her over critically. "Not sure. Your energy's very unfocused." He glanced up at the other two Brits. "Probably because of them. What do they want you to do?"

"Save the world, as is her destiny," Giles said coldly.

"Fuck destiny." Ella had reappeared. "Fuck destiny," she repeated. "I tried to follow mine. Look where it got me. Destiny is nothing but a pile of shit designed to keep people in line." She grabbed Buffy's hands. "Annie, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that. Nobody can make you do anything." She gave a wry grin, marred by the purpling bruise on her face. "Not even the people you love."

Buffy looked at Giles for a long moment. She didn't know him anymore, and he didn't know her. The way he was acting...she couldn't remember him ever being this cold. But four years and no contact could do that, she supposed.

Then Spike...

She still remembered how he'd felt against her. Cold skin. Rough brick behind her, scraping at her back. Hot, hungry, demanding kisses. Teeth scraping over her flesh. Him filling her, making her feel whole for a moment. It shouldn't have been possible. It shouldn't have ever happened.

And the way he was looking at her now; all blue, pleading eyes. And there was something essentially different about him...

"Ethan," she said oddly. "He's souled. How?"

"No idea, love. Took you long enough. Need some more lessons?"

"No thank you. Have enough on my plate as it is." She closed her eyes briefly. "Giles...explain. Who's Dawn? Why do you say she's my sister?"

* * *

Reviews are chocolate, and I'm not on a diet.

Coming next chapter:

Buffy's a statistic?

Ethan does some explaining


	4. Explanations

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13 for the moment. Language and themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I see from the reviews that some people are quite confused. That's good. I like keeping people confused! If you've read any of my Harry Potter fics, you'll know this!!! But I'll steal my friend's review to make things a little clearer for you:

_'1) The Spuffiness despite leaving end s2: it's AU from the end of Becoming Part 2. Deal. She's a Spuffy 'shipper, and it affects the way they are around each other in the fic (as you'd imagine it would). There was Spuffiness in s2, it's just that it was subtext, UST, just in their chemistry- there was definite potential there (for ff and the future). Better potential than the version they gave us on the show if you ask me, but that's just my opinion.  
2) - actually, not sure I can give you a 2. Let me check. Yes I can. Spike is souled. Ergo, not 100 evil s2 Spike (not that he was, but he's not going to be 's2 Spike' is my point).  
And LizaGirl, Ella is indeed escaping an abusive male significant other (Tom). I think that's all I can say on this sort of point. I do go to sixth form with Sparks, and she's on crutches- which allows her a very long reach and a very hard hitting-device on relatively short notice, so you can understand why I'm not saying anything more!'_

That's what Kirina wrote, and she has it all right (she knows some of what's going to happen, 'cause I bore her with the details every day at college). I've slightly altered canon so that Buffy and Spike did have sex during 'Becoming'. That's the _only_ thing I've altered, and I forgot to mention it – sorry! Spike is souled, so he's not going to be like he was in season two, and he also may be a bit different to how he is on the show – different experiences make a person different. No Buffy in Sunnydale equals a different Spike.

LizaGirl, as Kirina said, Ella is in/coming out of an abusive relationship, and she and Buffy aren't in love or anything like that. I'm afraid you won't find out the real reasoning for their closeness for another...twelve chapters or so? Something like that. But Buffy is bi – that much I can tell you.

And Kirina – your last comments made me laugh. I'd never hit you with my crutches...much...

That all said, on with the chapter. It's a very long one this time – don't expect them all to be this long!

* * *

Chapter Three: Explanations

* * *

She called in sick the next day, making sure that her immediate superior, Mrs Oleson, would tell each of the students she had appointments with that they should feel free to call her anytime.

Ella had taken Hattie to her music group, leaving Buffy to look after Marian for a while. The baby was only six months, and holding her was making Buffy a little broody.

"It's not worth it, Annie," Ethan advised, putting a cup of coffee down next to her. "You'd have to find a man, first."

Buffy smiled up at him, acutely aware of Spike and Giles sitting on the couch adjacent. _Mind if I put on a show?_

_Be my guest._

"But Ethan," she pouted, "I always thought you'd make a good father." She lifted her face and he kissed her with just the right amount of passion.

"Christ, Ethan, you're forty-six," Giles said in disgust after a moment.

"And I'm twenty-two and perfectly capable of making my own decisions," Buffy told him sharply. "It's none of your business who I kiss, Watcher." Their level of conversation hadn't improved since Giles had explained how Dawn Summers was in fact the Key to other dimensions, and an evil hell-god was trying to use her to open the door, get home, and in the process wreak irreparable havoc on Earth. Buffy didn't have any memories of Dawn, seemed hardly affected by the news of her mother's death, and didn't look as though she cared for her sacred duty much anymore either.

In fact, the only things she seemed to care about at the moment were her friend and possible lover Ella, the two children, Ethan Rayne, and oddly enough about the way Spike kept looking at her as though he wanted to eat her up – and not in the bloody way.

Ethan disappeared for a while. Giles had pulled out a journal of some sort and was writing furiously in it. Spike was watching Buffy with an odd little smile twisting his lips. Buffy let Marian suck on her finger. Teething babies were a pain. Literally.

"Annie," Ethan started when he returned, "Why is this here?" He held up a small business card. Buffy turned very pale suddenly. "When was he here, and did you beat him up?"

"Doesn't matter," she muttered.

"That's why you're so unfocused," Ethan surmised after a moment. "He came round."

"Who?" Spike demanded. He was ignored.

"Did he see Hattie?" Ethan's voice was reaching a dangerously silky level. Giles recognised it at once, and put his book down.

"No, of course not. She was at music group."

"What did he do, Annie?" Buffy wouldn't look at him. She stood up and carefully put Marian in her carrier for a nap. "Annie, I'll find out one way or another."

"It's nothing," Buffy said quietly. "Please leave it, Ethan."

He grabbed her hand as she went to move past him into the kitchen with her empty coffee cup, and he stared hard at her, then let her go in disgust.

"I think, Ripper old mate, you'd best go," he informed his old friend in clipped terms. "I have something to discuss with Annie."

Spike stood up and slowly crossed the room to Buffy. His hand hovered over her shoulder, then he spun her around. She glared at him, but didn't make a move to stop him. He traced her jawline, and then opened the top two buttons of her shirt to reveal a large bruise.

"Oh, pet," he sighed. "Things should have been different."

Buffy buttoned up her shirt again, not taking her eyes from his. "Yes," she agreed tightly. "They should. I shouldn't have become a statistic. But I have. Is that what you wanted to hear, Spike? How my life isn't perfect? How I have problems? How sometimes I'm scared to leave my daughter anywhere without me? How the man that would have been my brother-in-law is abusing my best friend? How I can hardly bear to let any man touch me? Well, you've heard it."

"We need you in Sunnydale, luv."

"I'm not your love."

"You could have been."

She shook her head, a little of her defiance coming back to her. "In another world, Spike. A world where I was a different person." She leaned back on Ethan's quiet support, but he gave it to her only for a moment before stepping away. She looked at him incredulously. "Ethan?"

"Why don't you just fight him off?" he demanded in a weary tone. He'd sung this song too many times. "He's just a human. You're the Slayer, you're a powerful – "

"Because he is a human," Buffy whispered. "I won't hurt another human being in my life, Ethan. Not after...no. It's alright. As long as he never touches Hattie, and by all the gods he never will."

She was shaking. The three British men were staring at her: Watcher, Vampire, Sorcerer. Father, lover, friend. Why that order? she demanded of herself. Spike had only been her lover once, if she could even call it that. Ethan was her lover now.

"He will," Ethan predicted darkly. "That man will only give pain and hurt and destruction, Annie. He'll never be the father Hattie needs –"

"Well, I don't see anyone else offering!" she shouted, snapping. "No one else is here, Ethan! And I don't see you stepping in!"

"You know I would if I could, Annie. Don't you play that card."

She slapped him.

"Oh, thank God," Giles muttered. "At last someone around here seems to have some sense."

"Stay out of this, Giles," Buffy said in a voice that seemed devoid of all emotion. She didn't even look at him. "Sit. Now." To his surprise, Giles found himself doing just that. "Spike. Sit."

"Don't think I will, pet. Thanks for the offer." She glanced at him briefly. "Vampire, pet. Those kinds of spells don't work on the undead." He leaned against the wall. "Go on, please."

"Sit down, vampire," Ethan ground out. Eyes wide, Spike obeyed. "Annie, what are you doing?"

"Damned if I know," she threw out. "Kicking your ass seems like a good start."

"Oh, I see. Things get too tricky for the little Slayer, she resorts to violence." He looked at her scathingly. "I thought you'd grown up." She went deathly white, and guilt was etched onto his face a moment later. "Look, Annie, I didn't mean it. You know me..."

"Yes," she said stiffly. "Excuse me." She lifted the carrier – somehow Marian had remained asleep through all of this, probably due to Ethan – and disappeared up the stairs. Her bedroom door shut and locked a moment later.

"Bollocks," Ethan sighed. He glared at Giles. "This is all your fault, you know, Ripper. I blame you entirely."

"Oh, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you're an evil pillock?" Giles countered.

"Shut up, you two," Spike said quietly. "What the hell is wrong with her, Ethan?" And he knew something was wrong with her, something more than an abusive ex and four years alone and a child. Something more than he and Giles showing up. Something more than all of it. "What happened to her?"

Ethan gave a small scowl and poured a cup of tea out of thin air. "It's a long story," he warned. "And she'll kill me if she finds out I told you."

"And wouldn't that be a pity," Giles remarked. Ethan fixed him with a long, hard stare. "Go on, then."

"Alright, then. I'm not sure exactly how it started – she never has told me why she left good old Sunnydale – but I came into it just under four years ago. Christmas of ninety-eight, I think it was. And she was...in a bad way. Very bad."

"How?" Spike demanded. "This bloke? Hattie's dad?"

Ethan shrugged. "He's part of it. He was one of the people she rescued from –"He cut himself off at a small noise from upstairs. It was only the baby, though, so he continued. "I was, ah, researching various dimensions at the time."

"You were meddling again," Giles corrected him tightly.

"I like my word better," Ethan smirked. "But yes. And I stumbled across Annie. She changed her name when she left Sunnydale, to be harder to trace, but in this place..." He shook his head, an ugly, angry expression crossing his face. "No one would have found her if I hadn't."

Giles took his glasses off and fumbled for a handkerchief. "Where – where exactly was she?" he inquired.

"There isn't a name for it in English," Ethan warned. "In their own language, it's Phtygiktha."

"Oh, sodding hell," Spike said, feeling sick. "Even Angelus was afraid of that place." Giles shot him a querying look. "Angelus was – well, he wanted to go to a hell dimension. Earth was a bit too full of humanity for him. He was always going on about various different places. Once Darla got...a bit pissed off with him, suggested he go to Phy – that place. She didn't know all that much about it." He sat back, eyes gazing into the past. "He was more demonic that day than I've ever seen him be, and that's the truth."

And it was the truth. Angelus had been in a tearing rage after that; Drusilla had fled the house with Darla after she'd been backhanded, but Spike had stayed. Made it easier for Angelus to calm down, if he had someone to use as a whipping boy. He'd not recovered for days after that, even though Angelus had been contrite as that vampire ever could be.

He cleared his throat roughly. "So she was there. How long?"

"Only a few months, Earth time," Ethan said. "From what I can gather, it was about fifty years, their time – possibly longer."

"Good Lord," Giles whispered. "Fifty years in a hell dimension..."

"But she survived," Ethan pointed out. "More than a lot of others did. She got out more or less intact. Oh, there are scars, both mental and physical. Not that she'd ever voluntarily reveal them."

"So she's over seventy years old?" Giles was trying to get his head around this. Buffy was right, he had changed, but he'd always thought of Buffy as a daughter – albeit one in whom he felt a great sense of disappointment. All this was being turned on its head now. "How did she get out?"

"Well, that's where I came in. I opened a portal and went through, making sure I could open it up again." Ethan grimaced. "I found her. Very unexpectedly, as I'm sure you can guess. Brought her out. She wouldn't come without saving some of the others, though, and one of those was Dave. Hattie's father."

"Bloody hell, Slayer," Spike muttered. "Always with the saving."

"It's her hope," Ethan told him quietly. "She hopes that if she can just save one more, just one more worthless person, then she'll be redeemed."

"Redeemed from what?" Giles asked, sitting up straight. "What did she do?"

Ethan looked very uncomfortable now. "I...really shouldn't be talking about this," he hesitated. "It's really Annie's business..."

"What'd she do, kill someone?" Spike said with a grin. Ethan looked at him sharply. The grin faltered. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"She didn't exactly have a choice about it," Ethan tried to explain. "They made her – but one of them was someone she was...very close to. A lover, of sorts. Now, you know me, Ripper, I've done some pretty nasty stuff, when all's said and done. But the things she was put through...turned me off dark magicks for a hell of a long time, I can tell you."

"Thank whatever gods there are," came Ella's lilting voice from the front door. "We wouldn't want you teaching Hattie bad habits." She came into the lounge and flashed a tight smile. "Annie say you could talk about this, Ethan?"

"Uh, not exactly, pet."

"Then why are you?"

"We asked," Giles offered. "For what it's worth, we won't tell Buffy."

Ella frowned. "Her name's Annie now," she said coolly. "We all changed our names, in that place."

"You were there too?" Spike demanded, standing up. "How'd you survive, lamb?"

Ella smiled. Spike had – surprisingly – helped her dress both Marian and Hattie that morning, and he'd taken to calling her 'lamb'. She quite liked it, although from the looks of things he was out of bounds. Annie did get ever so protective about her lovers, and she should know.

"Because of her," she answered simply. "Annie helped us all survive. Especially when her children were grown –"

"Hold on, children?" Giles exclaimed.

"She was there fifty years, Rupert," Ethan said scornfully. "She had a life. Sort of."

"Sort of being the operative word for all of it," Ella muttered. "I just thank the gods we got out of there before –"She cut herself off abruptly. "Well. It doesn't matter. Now you know."

An awkward silence fell. Ella was glaring defiantly at Giles, who she didn't like at all. She could tell it was he that Annie particularly didn't want to see, and when it came down to it, she was on Annie's side now and always.

Ethan rested a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. Ethan was with Annie too, Ella knew. Now and always. They all were – or all should have been. They'd all vowed to stand beside her, fight beside her, love and hate and cry beside her.

"It wasn't your fault," Ethan told her quickly as her eyes welled up. "None of it was your fault, Ella. They made their own decisions."

"Yes, but I went along with Tom," she whispered, moving slowly to the couch. "I went along with it. After I promised – I vowed, Ethan, with blood and tears, just like everyone else, and I broke my vow."

"No, you didn't," Buffy said from the top of the stairs. "Don't you ever, ever say that again, Ella Walker, or I swear to Haghd, I'll – I'll –"She faltered. "Do something really bad," she finished lamely. She walked down the stairs slowly. "Have you been feeling that, all these years?" she demanded. Ella nodded slowly. Buffy broke off into a torrent of words in another language that even Giles didn't understand, but even Ethan winced at some of the things she was saying in the language of Phtygiktha.

Finally Buffy stopped after Ella had laughed outright at one of the things Buffy had been proposing to do with a pineapple and a Rakeshia demon.

"Well, I'm glad you find it amusing," she muttered, trying to look sulky but not succeeding. "Honestly, Ella, why?"

Ella shrugged. "I don't know. Staying with Tom, not being here more..."

"Tom is an asshole," Buffy said bluntly. "But you loved him, once. Love makes us do the wacky." She frowned, trying to remember something, then shook it off and looked at Ethan. "Ethan, would you do lunch? I'm crap at cooking, you know that."

"Now, why should I do that?" he drawled, smirking at her.

"Because I translated that text you wanted," Buffy said promptly. "And because you love me." She turned to Spike. "I only have pig's blood, sorry. Well, that and Rakeshia blood, but you probably wouldn't like that. Giles, you're okay with real food still, aren't you?"

He nodded assent as Spike frowned. "Thought I smelled blood," he commented. "Thought it was just yours from last night."

Buffy shook her head. "I rarely bleed anymore," she said cryptically. She turned to Ethan. "Please, Ethan? The blood's in the fridge."

"Alright then, pet," Ethan conceded. "Ella, you need a fix as well?" Ella nodded.

"A fix?" Giles ventured. "Drugs?"

"No, blood," Buffy said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Ella, are you okay to pick up Hattie, or shall I do it?"

"You'd better," Ella answered. "She wanted you to take her to the swings afterward."

Buffy glanced at her visitors. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," she murmured. "Thanks for taking her, anyway. Marian's still asleep upstairs, by the way." She joined Ella on the couch and yawned. "Actually quite glad I took today off."

"Buffy, we need an answer," Giles said after a moment. "We need to know if you're coming back with us. We can't stay much longer; we left Dawn under the protection of Faith and A- a friend, but Glory is stronger than any of us. We need you to come back."

"I thought I made my feelings on that subject perfectly clear," Buffy said, glancing up at him.

"I can't believe you're being so irresponsible still, after all these years."

"What the hell do you know about it?" she demanded. "You're asking me to up stakes and trek halfway across the country to defend some girl I've never even met against a god, because it's supposedly my duty? Well, I've done my duty, and then some." She shook her head, staring at him with no little amount of bewilderment. "It's been a long time, Giles, but I don't remember you being like this."

"People change."

"But not me, is that what you're saying?" she said incredulously. "After fifty-seven years, I can't possibly change, because no, I'm the Slayer, and that's all I ever am or ever have been to you? Is that what you're saying, Giles?"

"Fifty-seven years?" Giles repeated quietly.

"Yes, fifty-seven years."

Spike raised a hand. "You don't look a day over thirty, if you ask me, Slayer," he offered glibly. She shot him a dirty look. "No wait, I know this song. Shut up, right?"

"No," Buffy said suddenly. "No, you came here to get me too. Let's hear your spiel, Spike. Why are you here with Giles? You're a vampire, even if you have got a soul."

Spike stared with a caught-in-headlights look. "Uh, well, I, uh," he stuttered.

"Never mind," Buffy said wearily. "You clearly don't have a reason."

Ethan chose that moment to reappear with a tray of large mugs. "Soup and blood," he announced. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Buffy muttered. "Where's mine? I'm hungry." He handed her one of the mugs, and she sniffed the soup delicately before sipping.

"So, Slayer, why're you drinking blood?" Spike inquired, taking a gulp of his own pig's blood with relish.

"If I felt the need to talk about it, Spike, it wouldn't be to you," she shot at him.

"It's a type of demon blood," Ella said quietly, ignoring Buffy's raised eyebrows. "We were fed it in the other place, for various reasons. It has some helpful side effects, but it also has a rather nasty withdrawal effect."

"Thank Haghd, Hattie didn't get the dependence," Buffy said softly. "I got pregnant only just after we'd got out; a month, or so." She shook her head, gazing off into space. "Those months were awful."

"Tell me about it," Ella grimaced. "Pregnancy and Rakeshia dependency do not mix. Ever. My first trimester, I couldn't eat anything but blood. Try explaining that to the doctor."

"What are the side effects?" Giles wanted to know between sips of soup. Ethan lounged next to him on the second couch.

"Sharper vision, faster pregnancy, practically no menstruation, stronger, no bleeding, and an increased receptivity to magic, and some other things," Buffy said quietly. "There were...reasons they fed us it." She looked down at her hands. "Jobs that we did."

Ethan shook his head. "They weren't jobs, Annie. They were tortures of a different sort." He glanced out of the window. "And are we expecting company?"

A man in his thirties burst through the door a moment later. "Annie, she's dead!" he said wildly. "She killed herself, Marta killed herself!"

Buffy rose and wrapped her arms around her middle. "How?"

"Overdose. I just – I just found her, I've not been checking on her – oh god, Annie, help us!"

"Come and sit down, Marcus," Buffy said gently. "Come on. Sit down."

Then someone else came through the door.

"Bloody hell, is this a circus in here, or what?" Spike complained as Buffy pulled him abruptly from his chair and let Marcus sit in it.

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said automatically. "Marcus, are you okay to talk to Ella for a bit? Good." She turned to the newcomer. "Mandy, what is it?"

"We need to talk," the young woman told her bluntly. "In the kitchen." Buffy frowned slightly, then followed her into the kitchen. Ethan trailed them, as did Spike. "Annie, there's a problem with the portal."

Buffy stared at the woman. "You...have got to be kidding me," she said faintly. "We bound that thing tighter than ever. What kind of problem?"

"It's coming open," Mandy told her. "Despite you two binding it, it's coming open. There are...things coming through. Not evil things," she hastened to reassure the Slayer. "Just livestock, and some humans. But they're talking about something called Glorificus."

"Aw, hell," Spike said crossly. "That's Glory. Our Hell Goddess."

Buffy frowned. "So to stop the portal spewing half of Phtygiktha, I have to go and stop this hell-god Glory," she thought out loud. "Oh, this is just terrific." The old familiar feelings of despair welled up in her, and for a moment her vision went black.

"Annie? Annie, are you alright?"

"No," she whispered harshly. "Marta killed herself. That's the seventh one, Mandy. Seven. And I want to be eighth. I have to go collect Hattie." She moved away from them in a daze; glanced into the lounge at Marcus, pouring his heart out on Ella's shoulder, and Giles watching them with a curious expression on his face. She pulled her coat on automatically.

"Annie, you can't just leave," Mandy said angrily, coming up behind her. "You have to deal with this!"

"Let someone else deal," Buffy said, louder than she'd meant to. Everyone looked at her. "Let someone else deal, god dammit. I'm sick to death of it all." She looked at her hands; they were shaking. "So much death," she whispered. "So much blood." Her eyes started glowing, and Ethan started forward in alarm. "Don't touch me!" she said sharply. "Just leave me alone. All of you leave me alone!" Her voice rose to a scream, and there was a huge, blinding flash.

When it dissipated, Buffy was gone.

* * *

Questions, comments, queries, chocolate: all welcome.

Coming next chapter:

Buffy and the Scoobies

A memory is stirred up.


	5. Dialogue

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: R. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks for all the positive feedback, people. This chapter, enter the Scoobies.

* * *

Chapter Four: Dialogue

* * *

Xander rubbed at his eyes wearily. "We're not gonna find anything," he complained. "It's late. We should all crash."

"You go," Willow said distractedly. "I think I'm on to something. She was biting her thumbnail in agitation. Tara rubbed her shoulders gently.

"No, Xander's right," Faith put in. "We should hit the sack." She looked over at Angel. "Come on, Angel. You're not finding anything, and Giles isn't gonna call this late."

The vampire shrugged. "He might. You never know." He gave a tight smile to the slayer. "But you go to bed," he told them. "There's no point wearing yourselves out."

Anya gave a loud sigh. "At last," she muttered. Willow looked up briefly to roll her eyes at the ex-demon. "Well, I'm only saying."

The retort that Faith had been about to give was cut off by the tremor that ran through the earth, shaking the house. It wasn't enough to be called an earthquake, but a picture fell from the wall, and Tara stumbled a little.

Dawn came tripping down the stairs. "What is it? Is it Glory?" Her eyes and voice were filled with fear.

"No, no," Faith assured her, going to sling an arm around the girl. "Just an earthquake. Southern California, remember?" But she looked worriedly at Angel nonetheless.

When the doorbell rang, they all jumped. Angel motioned Dawn out of sight, into the kitchen, before he went to answer it. The person waiting on the doorstep was the last person he'd expected to see.

He didn't even recognise her at first. The woman in front of him had blonde hair down to the middle of her back, and cold hazel eyes that looked almost lifeless. A scar ran from her eyebrow, around her eye, down across her cheek. She was unhealthily thin. But she smelled like Buffy, and if he looked carefully, he could see the teen he had known four years ago.

"Buffy?" he demanded incredulously.

She stared at him, slightly perplexed. She remembered him, a little, from her disjointed old memories. Things slid into place and she frowned. "Angel? I thought you were in a hell dimension. Did I forget something?"

"Buffy?" Xander and Willow both raced to the door and stared at their old friend, eyes wide. "Buffy, you're back!" Xander added unnecessarily.

"No," Buffy said quietly. "I'm just visiting. Thought I'd see what all the fuss is about." She didn't make a move to step into the house even when Angel stepped aside. "You'll have to invite me in," she said quietly. "A side effect of...things."

"You're not a vampire," Angel said suspiciously.

"No. I can stand here if you want."

"Buffy?"

Buffy looked past the three she knew at the girl she didn't. "You would be Dawn?" she inquired.

Dawn's breath caught in her throat. "You don't know me? You don't remember me?" Buffy shook her head. in."

Buffy stepped over the threshold and looked around impassively at the place that had once been her home. "Looks different," she commented. "But then I don't remember much of it." She glanced at the three women she didn't know, and looked enquiringly at Xander. He was the only one she remembered with much clarity, of those here.

"Buffy, this is, uh, Anya, my girlfriend," he introduced, picking up her hint. "And Tara, Willow's girlfriend, and –"

"I'm Faith," Faith said with a quick, slightly crooked smile. "So you're the infamous Buffy."

Buffy stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "Guess so," she said. "Although I go by Annie now." She looked back at Dawn. "So you're supposed to be my sister."

Dawn stared at her, tears welling up in her eyes. "Buffy, don't you know me at all?" Buffy shrugged.

"Guess the monks left me out of their little spell," she said nonchalantly. "Maybe because I'm so far away."

"Buffy, are you –"

Buffy cut Willow off. "I'm not here to stay. Just to have a look at what I'm supposed to protect with my life." She stared at Dawn, and frowned a little. "You look like my daughter."

"You have a daughter?" Angel asked, slightly pained.

"What, was I not supposed to?" she returned glibly. She frowned as a memory drifted to the surface of her mind. "Oh. I was in love with you, wasn't I?"

"Buffy, don't you remember any of us?" Willow demanded, voice shrill. "It was only four years ago!"

"It was a lot longer," Buffy said quietly. "I have to go." She turned and started for the door; Angel stopped her, and she shook him off. "Touch me again, and you're dust," she warned him in a low voice.

"Hey, back off, girlfriend," Faith said in alarm, stepping between the two former lovers. "What's the big deal here? What, you just stopped by for a chat?"

"Yes," Buffy nodded. "I have to get back. It took a lot of energy getting here." She looked at Dawn again, uncertainty etched on her features, then turned her attention to Angel. "I don't remember you much," she said quietly. "I don't remember anyone much. You – we were lovers, right?" He nodded, silent. "And...and something happened..." She shook her head confusedly. "Phtygiktha messed my head around a lot," she told him, knowing he'd know what she meant. How she knew, she wasn't sure, but she knew. "I've lost a lot of memories. Maybe...maybe that's why I don't know Dawn. I can't...I can't just leave my life."

"Well, your life's gonna be over if Glory gets her way," Faith said. "Everything's gonna go to hell, Blondie." A moment later her eyes widened as she was held in a strong choke hold by...nothing.

"Watch your words, Slayer," Buffy said disinterestedly. "I've already been to hell. You think I care what happens to people I don't know?" She released the magic she'd been using, and Faith collapsed against Angel, breathing harshly.

"And w-what about the people you d-do know?" Tara spoke up for the first time. "Your – your daughter, her father?"

Buffy gave a short bark of laughter. "Him I should have left in hell," she told the witch. "That's where my men all end up. But Hattie..." Agony twisted her face for a moment. "I don't know. It's not my business. Not my problem."

"It's everyone's problem," Dawn said in a tight, choked voice. "You may not know me or remember me, but I remember you. Please, Buffy. Help us. Help me."

Buffy closed her eyes. Those words...

"_Please, help us. Help me."_

_Buffy stared at the woman in front of her in anguish. "I can't, Sarah. They'll – their punishments...I'm sorry. But I can't fight them. Not even for you."_

_Sarah's skeletal frame shook with tears. "Please, Annie, you're strong, stronger than any of us in here. You have to do something. We can't live like this."_

"_I'm not strong, Sarah. I'm seven months pregnant, I can't do anything like this."_

_"If you don't, no one will." Buffy turned to see Michelle staring down at her from the upper level of the sleeping cells. "If you don't, no one will," she repeated. "I'll – we'll do anything, Annie. We'll swear an oath, if that's what it'll take."_

_Phtygikthans took oaths very seriously, and Buffy was shaken by the sheer emotion of those words._

"_Yes," Marta reinforced from nearby. "We'll swear an oath."_

"_Blood and sweat and tears," Michelle nodded. "A proper oath. They won't be able to break it, Annie. Not even if they kill us all."_

_Buffy looked around at them all. So many hopeful faces turned to her. Praying for her to help them, give them strength and support and hope. She didn't deserve it, didn't deserve any of it._

"_How can you pick me?" she asked, voice choked with tears. "I've killed – I've killed people I care about, people you knew and loved."_

"_Not your choice," Alex reminded her gently. "it wasn't your choice to kill them, and it's not your choice who we pick. Yes or no, Annie?"_

"_Yes," she whispered finally. "Yes."_

"Yes," she whispered, coming out of her memory. "Yes, I'll help."

Then she disappeared.

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box!

Coming next chapter:

Ethan yells at Buffy.

Buffy talks to Spike.


	6. Comprehension

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks again for all the feedback. I'm still about twelve chapters ahead, so more will be forthcoming. No chapter tomorrow, however, as I'm off to see 'Julius Caesar' with Kirina. Fun times! This chapter is dedicated to Lauren, for not changing.

* * *

Chapter Five: Comprehension

* * *

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Ethan demanded, nearly yelling at her, the moment after she reappeared in the lounge. "Do you have any comprehension of what your little disappearing act has done to your friends?"

"I went to Sunnydale," she said in clipped tones. "I met...my sister." She looked over at Giles and Spike accusingly. "You didn't tell me Angel was back from his hell dimension."

"Didn't think about it, pet," Spike said roughly. "How the hell d'you get to Sunnyhell and back in ten hours?"

"Magick," she said briefly. "Ethan, is Marcus okay?"

"Ask him yourself," the sorcerer snapped, turning her back on her and gazing out of the window. "He's upstairs, asleep on your bed. Mandy's keeping an eye on him. Sarah's here, as well."

Buffy frowned. "How – never mind. Ella asleep?"

"Yeah," Spike answered, since no one else seemed about to. "Hattie and the pintsize, too."

She looked at him differently for a moment, then smiled. "Thank you, Spike."

"What for, pet?"

"For...not changing." She stretched carefully, feeling the effect of so much magick. "Ye gods, I'm tired."

"Yes, well, that's what you get for teleporting across the country," Ethan said in clipped tones, still not looking at her.

She frowned. "You were really worried about me, huh?"

"When nearly half the escapees turn up here at some point this afternoon because their marks were burning from the distance between you all, and when Hattie was screaming all afternoon? Forgive me for being a little worried, Annie."

She eased her aching limbs into motion and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "I'll make it up to you," she murmured. "I promise." Giles shook his head and went into the kitchen.

"Don't promise," Ethan said roughly. "You're not good at keeping them, as I recall."

She stepped away, sadness drifting over her like a cloud. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's – I...I'm sorry." She shrugged listlessly. "It's all I can do, Ethan. Promise. I don't have anything else to give."

"You have to have," he told her. "If you're going to help Ripper and his lot."

"And I have to do that, Ethan. Don't you see?"

"I see you running back home when they finally catch up with you. I see you craving acceptance just like you always have. I see you giving in to them, Annie, just like you did in the mines!"

"Stop it," she whispered, stricken. But he didn't.

"I see a little girl with no idea the harm she's doing to the people around her. Selfish and self-centred, and ready to go running back to your old life at the drop of the hat, never mind the work you've put in here to make a life for yourself, never mind Hattie and me and Ella and everyone else."

"Stop it."

"And I see you wanting it! You think you deserve their condemnation, when it should be you giving them recriminations, Annie!"

"Stop it, Ethan!" Sarah snapped from the top of the stairs. "Can't you see you're just hurting her more?" She descended quickly and enveloped Buffy in her arms. "Honey, what's going on?" she asked gently. "C'mon, you can tell me."

"I – I can't," Buffy whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry." She shook her head blindly. "I wish...I wish Alex was here. Or Max."

"But Max is here," Sarah said in confusion. "Didn't Ethan tell you? No, of course he didn't," she answered herself with a glare at the sorcerer. "He's in the basement."

Buffy's eyes widened and she disappeared within moments.

"So will someone tell me what's going on?" Spike inquired. "Or do I have to sniff it out myself?"

"Alex and Max were two of Annie's lovers," Sarah explained. "She was close to them, very close."

"Right. So how many of you lot did she actually sleep with, anyway?"

"I suggest you leave that line of questioning," Ethan said coolly. "Now."

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him, a very silly act for someone who appeared to be in her late thirties. She jerked her head towards the door, glancing at Spike as she did so, and he took the hint and followed her out onto the front porch.

"You have a fag? I'm dying here," Sarah told him. He silently handed one over with his lighter. She lit up and took a deep drag before throwing back the lighter. "Thanks. Don't tell Annie, though, she'd kill me."

"Yeah, never did peg her for one to like smokers."

"Oh, she doesn't like me. Not all that much. We just have history, is all."

"So she slept with you, too?"

Sarah gave a wry grin. "No, not me. I was never...we were only in the same work unit for a little while, while she was pregnant with Charlotte. But Max and I had a thing, one time, and Max was always odd about it, which made Annie and I odd about it."

"Alright, slow down, chook. Who's Charlotte?"

"Annie's second child."

"And Max..."

"Annie's second mate."

Spike frowned. "This...is a little confusing. And not at all like the Slayer I remember."

"None of us came out of that place the same," Sarah told him quietly. "Annie...well, she only trusts people who've slept the night with her and have hung around in the morning. For real, Spike, you'd better not hurt her, or you'll have several dozen of us refugees to deal with."

Spike stared. "Uh, did I miss something?" he demanded. "Not looking to hurt her. Just want her to get back to Sunnydale and help us with the new Big Bad."

"Sure," Sarah smirked. She put out her cigarette with her shoe. "Sure."

"Hey, Sarah, Spike." Buffy stood at the door, eyebrow raised. "Sarah, you weren't smoking again?" Sarah shrugged. "Well, please don't. Max needs a word with you about Toni." Sarah nodded and went indoors. Spike sighed in irritation.

"And Toni is..."

"Max and Sarah's daughter," Buffy told him with a slight smile. "She's twenty-one. Don't worry about keeping everyone straight. Not even I can always do that, and I –"She cut herself off and grew serious. "Spike, if I'm going to do this, I can't come alone."

Spike nodded. "I figured Ethan'd come, and Hattie too."

"No," she said softly. "I don't just mean them. I mean all of us. All of the escapees."

"How's that, luv?"

Buffy turned and looked back into the house. "How many people showed up here this afternoon?" she asked instead of answering. "Nearly half, Ethan said. Thirty or so? Forty?"

"'Bout that, yeah," he nodded. "Gonna explain this anytime soon?"

"They're bound to me," She said abruptly. "All of them. Not the children, of course – the young ones. But anyone who was ever in Phtygiktha swore an oath to me. A blood oath. To follow me and aid me. To help me fight back against our captors. We didn't realise it was so strong, when we did it...I was pregnant with my second child, Charlotte...maybe that affected it...but they're all bound to me, now. If they go too far away from me, they're in agony. Or if I go too far away from them. I can draw strength from them. Sometimes I do it without realising. It made us into a coven, of sorts, but a huge one. There are nearly a hundred of us that got out after Ethan came in. There were three hundred of us in there, and I couldn't get them all out. They're dead by now – time moves differently, and the pain of the bond through dimensions..." She shook her head. "So much blood on my hands, Spike. So much..." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "But the point is, they'll all have to come. All of them. All ninety-six of them, and Ethan and Hattie and Marian and the others."

"How will you get them there?" Spike asked after a moment. "I mean, they can't exactly all take a bus..."

"Ethan and I will set up a transportation spell," Buffy shrugged. "With the whole group, it'll take next to no power at all from each of us. I told you that the blood increases our magickal ability, right?"

Spike dipped his head. "Yup. Way the Watcher tells it, you couldn't do a spell to save your life back in Sunnyhell."

Buffy smiled crookedly. "No. Not that I can remember, anyway." She absently traced the scar on her face. "And I don't remember all that much. Faces, some names. It gets confusing. I don't like to think about it."

"Annie?" Ethan stepped onto the porch and cast Spike a glance. "The others are going to bed. Do you want to sleep tonight, or not?"

"No, I won't," she said softly. "I need to put the call out, and check out that portal. And I should really catch up on my emails."

"Annie, you need some sleep at least," Ethan reminded her.

"No," she shook her head. "Did Max tell you? Simone is dead."

Ethan suddenly looked ten years older. "By all the gods, Annie, why didn't you say something to me?"

She shrugged. "Not much point, is there? We're dropping like flies. That's eight now."

"Eight suicides since coming out of there? Not bad, if you ask me, Slayer," Spike commented. She looked away from him, away from the light escaping the house.

"Not good enough," she whispered. "Simone...Simone was my mate. One of them." She shrugged and plastered a smile onto her face. "Ethan, could you make sure everybody's ready to move out in the morning? We'll need a major transportation spell, as well as supplies to last...say a month? That should do it. Plus anything you have on Hell Gods would be helpful." Ethan nodded and disappeared. Buffy turned to Spike. "Spike, would you –"

He interrupted her by pulling her roughly into his arms and kissing her.

His lips were as cold as she remembered, and his leather duster smelled the same. He tasted of cigarettes and blood and oh! decades of nutmeg and kisses. His arms wrapped around her, holding her safe, and for a moment she almost pretended it was Alex or Max comforting her as they had done in Phtygiktha...

Then she broke away, a curious but distant expression on her face. "What was that for?"

Spike shrugged, sucking in a needless breath. "Dunno."

"Then don't do it again. I don't like people kissing me without a reason."

"Mom!"

Buffy's face lit up and she turned to greet the young woman walking up the path. "Charlotte!"

Charlotte practically ran up the steps onto the porch and enveloped her tiny mother in her arms. Curious blue eyes flicked towards Spike, then as she drew back, she looked at her mother again. "Mom, are you alright? The brand – and Simone, and Marta – are you alright?"

"I'm fine, sweetie," Buffy soothed, smoothing Charlotte's blonde hair away from her face. "I'm glad you're here, though. We're leaving in the morning."

Charlotte's face, so like her mother's, became troubled. "Is Jake here?" she wanted to know.

"No, not yet." Buffy glanced at Spike. "This is Spike...an old friend, of sorts. From before Phtygiktha."

Charlotte whistled. "Old indeed. That was, what, fifty-seven years ago?" Buffy nodded.

"Grandmom!"

Buffy laughed happily as two small boys leaped on her. "Toby! Zach! You've grown, I swear!" Still smiling, she led her family into the house with one last glance at Spike.

Spike frowned. Why the hell did Charlotte – supposedly Buffy's daughter – look as though she could be her mother?

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box!

Coming next chapter:

Buffy dreams of blood and Alex.


	7. Bonds

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks again for the reviews. A note, however: if you're confused by something, let me know precisely what it is you're confused by! Then, if I can explain it, I will. Just saying that my story confuses you isn't the best way to review...That said, I know that the story is confusing. Purposefully so. I'm a confusing writer. I know what's going on, though, so just...ride it out!

* * *

Chapter Six: Bonds

* * *

"_By blood and bone, I call. By sweat and tears I call. By home and hearth and right of Haghd, I call." Buffy lit the candle in front of her and passed it to Alex, who lit his from hers and passed the flame on._

_"By blood and bone, I command. By sweat and tears I command. By home and hearth and right of Haghd, I command." She used the knife to cut both of her palms. Blood dripped into the bowl, which she then passed on. The others did as she had done._

_"By blood and bone, I bind. By sweat and tears I bind. By home and hearth and right of Haghd, I bind." She gripped Alex's hand tightly, their blood mingling. He gave her a fiercely protective look as they all joined together._

_"By blood and bone, by sweat and tears, by home and hearth and right of Haghd, let it be done!"_

_"Let it be done," echoed around, everyone repeating it. Energy raced through them all, and Buffy's eyes glowed bright white._

_Then she looked around at them all – Alex and Sarah and Marta and Michelle and Mandy and Clare and Lexie and all the others._

_"This is going to be hard," she warned._

_

* * *

_

_"You will do it, slave."_

_"No."_

_"Annie, don't fight them!"_

_"I won't kill you, Alex! I love you!"_

_"Love...Annie, listen to me...you have to live, you mustn't fight them now. Pick your fights. Remember? Pick your fights. You've got to live. For Amelie, and for Charlotte. Charlotte's only three, Annie, you can't leave her..."_

_"I can't let you go, Alex. I need you."_

_"Slave!"_

_"Annie, I'll always be with you. Blood and bone, sweat and tears, home and hearth and right of Haghd, remember? I love you."_

_"Slave! Do it!"_

_"I love you, Alex. I'm so sorry."_

She woke up screaming, and she couldn't stop. Hands surrounded her, touching her, trying to help her, but she couldn't bear it. She'd killed him, her mate, her love. She'd killed Alex.

Finally Max gathered her up in his arms and she sobbed into his chest as he murmured soothing noises. "It's alright, Annie, it's alright, you're safe. We're safe. They're not going to hurt you anymore."

"I killed him," she whimpered. "He said I had to kill him. I killed him, Max."

"Alex wanted it that way," he soothed her, stroking a hand over her hair. "And he's still here, in the bond. And you have Charlotte to remember him by, and Toby and Zack, and we all remember him. He's not forgotten."

"But I killed him." She pushed him away then, struggling to her feet. She'd fallen asleep on the couch. Dozens of people were squeezed into her lounge. More were arriving even as she watched. "Where's Hattie?"

"She's playing with the other kids," Ella told her quietly. "Ethan's watching them."

Buffy nodded, rubbing her shoulder, stiff from lying on it. "Is everyone here, almost?"

"Mostly," Max told her quietly. "We're waiting on Jake and Samantha, and Toni ran out for some crackers for the kids. Even Tom and Dave are here – bound and gagged." He flashed a malicious grin.

"We should...set up the spell, then." Buffy tried to step forward, but almost fell. Half a dozen hands reached out to help her; she fended them off gently. "I'm alright, guys."

"Yeah, sure," Sarah snorted from the stairway. She pushed her way through the crowd and pulled out her penknife. "Hand, Annie." Rolling her eyes, Buffy lifted her hand. Sarah nicked her palm and Buffy's, and pressed the cuts together. They breathed in unison for a moment, then Buffy smiled tightly in thanks and went to find Ethan.

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box!

Coming next chapter:

Return to Sunnydale

Confrontation between Max and Angel


	8. Challenge

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks for the question, Jane. The answer is...I can't answer that. Really. Sorry. I like keeping my readers mystified! But I _can_ tell you that a) Buffy doesn't have a proper relationship with anyone else in the fic, and b) I'm a Spuffy fan. that should help! This chapter, the Scoobies and Buffy's new friends all meet.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Challenge

* * *

It had been decided that of the ex-slaves, only a small group would actually help Buffy once they reached Sunnydale. Max, Sarah, Marcus and Ethan were the only ones Buffy would allow into the conflict. Her children protested this vehemently, of course, but Buffy was adamant that none of them were to be anywhere near.

"Besides," she said to Jake and Charlotte, "I need you to watch Hattie – not to mention Tom and Dave." Her face darkened. "Just keep everyone safe for me, okay? I'll check in every couple of hours."

Jake sighed. Charlotte looked as though she still wanted to argue, but instead she nodded. "Blood and bone," she accepted.

So the large group dissipated to various hotels in smaller groups. Each was to check in with Buffy every five hours. Buffy and the others were left standing in front of Revello Drive.

"So this is where you used to live," Marcus said softly. "It looks...nice."

"Thanks," Buffy said absently. "I don't really remember it much." She reached out for Ethan's hand, and he squeezed it tight. "This isn't going to be pretty," she warned.

"We know," Sarah said, unusually subdued. "When you're ready, Annie."

"Oh, come on, you tossers," Spike said impatiently, striding up the front path, blanket protecting him from the sun. He pushed the front door open and stepped inside. "Bit?"

"Spike!" Hurricane Dawn flew into his arms and hugged him tightly. "You're back!" She pulled him hurriedly into the house. "Giles! Buffy!"

Buffy forced a smile and walked up the path to the house. "Dawn," she nodded. "May we come in?"

"Of course!" She held the door open for them. Buffy glanced at her friends, then back at Dawn. "Oh. They have to be invited in too? Come in, guys."

"Thanks," Marcus said with a smile. "You must be Dawn. I'm Marcus."

"I'm Sarah, and this is Max," Sarah put in. "So, let's get the party going. Glorificus, right?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and sat on the couch. The transportation spell had taken a little much out of her – as had the argument she'd had with Dave before performing it. "No party, Sarah. You're just here to help, not to fight."

Sarah scowled. "What is your problem, Annie? You've been acting like this for hours. What, Ethan didn't do you recently?"

Buffy stared at her coldly. "Shut up, Sarah, you don't know a thing about it."

Max winced and turned to Dawn. "They're gonna be a while at this. We should meet the rest of the people here."

Dawn nodded, eyes wide, and led them into the kitchen as the sounds of Buffy and Sarah's argument grew louder.

"Hey, Faith, they're back," she announced. Faith looked up from her coffee. "These are some of Buffy's friends – Max and Marcus. Buffy is, uh..."

"Having a fight with my ex," Max completed calmly. "Are those pancakes I smell? I'm starving." He turned to Ethan. "You've got the blood, right?"

"Shouldn't you do something about them?" Ethan inquired, pulling a flask from his pocket and handing it to the man. "Annie's not exactly on top form, you know."

Max shrugged, grabbing a pancake and a plate and generously pouring the thick black blood over the food. "Annie may be my mate, but I have some feelings for Sarah. There's no way I'm getting in between them."

Faith frowned. "Would someone please slow down and tell me what exactly is going on here?" she demanded.

Spike shrugged and opened the fridge. "Buffy's crazy, and sleeps with everyone."

"Not exactly," Ethan said with an easy grin. "Crazy, I'll agree with. Most of us are. But she doesn't sleep with everyone."

"Mostly just her mates," Max nodded.

"Mates? Like friends?" Dawn questioned.

"No, Bit, not British slang," Spike answered, munching on some cold chicken. "Mate like partner. Like animals."

Buffy stormed into the kitchen and glared at Max. "Get her under control," she seethed. "Or I won't be responsible!"

Max took another bite of his pancake. "What exactly do you expect me to do?" he enquired calmly. "I'm not her mate."

Buffy gaped for a moment, mouth forming words and then rejecting them, then she gave a strangled moan and said something in a quick stream of some other language.

Max said one word in return – or at least, Dawn assumed it was just one word – and Buffy managed a smile.

"Sorry," she said then to Dawn and Faith. "Mate stuff. So where do we start?"

"With breakfast," Faith said with a yawn. "And coffee."

"Did someone mention coffee?" Willow entered the kitchen, looking as though she was being led by her sense of smell alone. She bumped into Marcus. "Oh, sorry. Uh...do I know you?"

Marcus flashed a smile. "No, but you will soon."

"Down, boy," Spike said with amusement. "The Witch's girlfriend won't appreciate it."

Marcus scowled. "All the nice women are gay," he complained. Buffy arched an eyebrow. "Or taken," he added hurriedly. "Not that you're taken, I mean you're not at the moment, unless you are, because we've all been wondering about Ethan and you..."

"Marcus, give it a rest," Sarah said, entering the kitchen looking a little pale. "Ooh, blood pancakes!"

Willow gagged as some of the thick blood dripped onto Max's plate. "What – is that?"

"Blood," Max said. "Don't worry, it's a long story."

"And can we please get on with finding Glory now?" Buffy demanded, wide-eyed as she watched her friends make themselves at home in the kitchen.

"Sure," Angel agreed from the doorway. Buffy turned to face him. "That would be a good idea."

Max lifted his head suddenly, a strange mix of anger and protectiveness on his face as he stared at Angel. He growled low in his throat. The kitchen suddenly went very quiet. Angel frowned in confusion.

Buffy was the first to realise it. "Aw, crap," she swore. "Max, honey, don't do this."

"He doesn't have a choice," Marcus reminded her. "I assume you had a relationship with this guy?"

"It was fifty-seven years ago!" Buffy protested, looking anxiously between Max and Angel. "Neither is an Alpha! Or even a current mate!"

Spike frowned. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"Max is about to fight this guy," Marcus informed him. "He sees him as a threat to Annie."

"That's ridiculous," Angel scoffed. "I'd never hurt Buffy."

"You did once," Max growled. "I can feel it." He looked at Buffy, as if for permission. "Annie?"

"No," she said softly. "No, Max, please don't."

He shook his head, baring his teeth. His eyes glowed white. "Alpha!"

"No!" she snapped. "No, Second."

"He calls himself your Alpha!" Max snarled at her, taking a step towards her. Ethan and Marcus surreptitiously ushered the others to the other side of the kitchen. "He has no right!"

"He does." Buffy frowned. "Sort of."

"Annie, stop trying to reason with him and hit him already," Ethan complained.

"Shut up," she shot at him. She glanced at Angel. "I think you'd better vacate the room, Angel, unless you particularly want a fight right now." 

"No," Max said tersely. "He stays."

"Second! You will listen to me!" Buffy cried out, finally snapping. "Blood and bone, Max! I call, I command, I bind!" Her eyes glowed fiercely white for a moment. "You will stop this. Now."

Max seemed to grow smaller for a moment before her, and then he shook his head to clear it and put his head on one side, baring his throat in a universal gesture of submission. She touched his jugular with her fingers, accepting the submission, then kissed him gently.

"It's alright," she soothed. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't hurt anymore." She glanced at Angel. "And he doesn't know not to think of himself as my Alpha. It's alright, Second. Don't worry about it, Max."

Faith raised a hand. "Can I just say? That was weirder than we usually see in Sunnydale."

Sarah gave a light laugh and guided Max out of the kitchen into the lounge. Marcus, with a glance at Buffy, followed suite. Buffy sat down at the island in the centre of the kitchen, suddenly feeling very weak.

"You've no idea," she said faintly. "So. Um."

"What was that all about?" Willow asked. "That was...it looked like vampire family supremacy, but it wasn't, right? I mean, you're not vampires, so..."

"No," Buffy shook her head. "But we've enough alien blood in our systems to make our family behaviours similar." She traced her scar absently. "Max was my Second, my mate, and he's the most superior still living." She flinched slightly. "Actually, the only one still living, now Simone's dead."

"Could that be any vaguer?" Faith inquired. "Here, coffee. You look like you could use it."

She looked at Faith strangely. "A Slayer with a caffeine addiction?"

"No worse than one with a blood dependency," Ethan murmured to her. "I'm going to check something with Giles." He left the room.

"So, is someone going to explain this to me?" Angel queried, pulling a bag of blood from the fridge.

"It's complicated," Buffy said shortly. "And not really any of your business. I'm here to fight Glory, not to tell you about my personal life."

"I'm sure it is complicated," he agreed. "Must be, if you've been in Phtygiktha."

She met his eyes coolly. "Yes. For fifty-three years. You got a problem with that?"

"Slayer," Spike began, "Got a question for you. If Max is your second mate, and Simone I'm guessing was your third, who was your first, your Alpha?"

Buffy took a sip of the coffee. "I'm not discussing this," she said clearly. "Glory. Start talking."

Dawn looked angrily at the two vampires. "Geez, you two, leave her alone. She only just got here." She turned to Buffy. "Giles has all the books at the Magic Box – that's where Anya and Xander are right now. I guess we should head over there."

Buffy nodded. "Right. Can I use your phone first?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Buffy dialled in the familiar mobile number quickly.

_"Hello?"_

"Hi, Ella."

_"Annie! We weren't expecting your call for a couple of hours. Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah, fine. Had an incident with Max over something, but nothing serious. Is Hattie there?"

_"Yeah, she's just here. You wanna talk to her?"_

"Please." She glanced up at Angel, who was watching her with an odd expression on his face.

_"Mommy!"_

"Hi, sweetie." She smiled. "You being good for Auntie Ella?"

_"Uh huh. We're going to the park later! Can you come too, mommy?"_

"No, sweetie, I'm sorry. You know we're here for a very important reason. But I'm sure Jake and Charlotte will go with you, and your nephews too."

_"Don't wanna go with them. Want you to come, mommy." _Buffy could picture her daughter's pout perfectly.

"I know, Hattie, but if you're a good girl, I'll bring some people to see you later, okay? Can you put your Auntie Ella back on, please?"

_"Annie?"_

"Can you make sure Hattie has her morning milk? I forgot to mention it."

_"Sure thing. You doing okay?"_

"As well as can be expected," Buffy answered dryly. "I'll talk to you later, Ella. I love you."

_"I love you too, Annie. Take care."_

Buffy hung up and sighed. "Right. Let's get going."

* * *

Please review. Reviews are candy, and I'm not dieting...

Coming next chapter:

Buffy meets Glory. (Cue dramatic music!!)


	9. Fights

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I'm mildly hyper. My three Buffy box sets arrived, and I'm...yeah. Spike! Finally my collection is complete, after maybe six years! So, um, yes, thanking you for the reviews.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Fights

* * *

Finding Glory turned out to be a lot easier than any of them had expected. It also made things a lot more difficult, as Buffy knew the instant she laid eyes on the hell goddess. 

She was patrolling with Spike and Angel. It was...different, and almost uncomfortable. Angel kept treating her like she was still seventeen, and Spike kept making lewd comments that made Angel want to snap his grandchilde's neck. Buffy managed to ignore him for the most part, but Max's confrontation with Angel kept nagging at her thoughts. Not to mention the weirdness that had been a day spent in the company of a girl supposedly her sister.

She growled with frustration and did several cartwheels in a row, trying to get rid of some of her nervous energy. It scarcely worked; all she got for her efforts were strange looks from her vampire guards.

"Oh, shut up," she complained. "Like this isn't weird for you, too."

"Yeah, but seein' you do the acrobatics? Making it less weird all the time, pet."

She rolled her eyes at Spike. "Oh, come on. Girl's gotta have a little bit of fun."

Angel frowned. "Buffy, what's gotten into you tonight? This situation is really serious, you know."

"I've dealt with worse, oh brooding one," she said insolently. "You think there weren't hell gods in Phtygiktha?" She jumped and grabbed hold of the branch of a tree and swung for a few moments. "Oh come on, you stupid vampires!" she called in exasperation. "I could be having a good fuck right now."

Spike blinked. "Uh, pet, who are you and what have you done with Annie? 'Cos you weren't like this yesterday."

"No." Buffy dropped to the ground, eyes wide. "There's something wrong here."

"It's called a Hellmouth," Angel said dryly.

"No, something else, something..."

"Hey! Ugly vampire! I want a word with you!"

"Glory!" Spike hissed, whirling around with a whoosh of black leather. Angel was in game face in a moment.

Glory, Buffy saw, was in the form of a woman in her late twenties. She was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. She was evil; there was equally no doubt about that.

She looked at Buffy with a strange frown. "Hey, where do I know you from?"

Buffy whimpered and dropped to her knees. "I'm sorry," she whispered, head bowed. "Great Goddess, I did not recognise you."

"Slayer, what are you doing?" Spike demanded, eyes flashing. Glory stalked past him and stared down at Buffy. "Slayer – "

"Shut it, small fry," Glory said dismissively. She took Buffy's hand and hauled her to her feet. "You're a Slayer, huh? You're cute." Her face grew even colder. "So how come you know how to address me properly?"

Buffy kept her eyes on the ground. She was more afraid than she could ever remember being. "Great Goddess, I was in Phtygiktha for a time," she whispered.

"I can't hear you. Speak up."

"I was in Phtygiktha, my Goddess," Buffy said louder. "F-for many years." She risked a glance up, and saw Spike and Angel watching her incredulously. She lowered her gaze again. "I beg forgiveness, my Goddess, I did not know..."

Glory preened. "Well, at least someone in this world knows how to treat me." Then she was pushed forward as Angel kicked her. Buffy was pushed aside. Glory rose to her feet, facing the two vampires with fury on her face. "Hey! I was talking here! Rude much?" She glared at Buffy, who was struggling to her feet. "Hey you, slave. Stay put like a good dog."

Buffy watched the fight from the ground. If it could be called a fight at all; the two vampires were Masters, but neither was really holding their own against Glory. The goddess was just toying with them. She'd get bored soon enough, just as her sibling gods did, and then her attention would return to Buffy.

A surge of strength swept through her, and she knew that someone had sent it to her through their bond. It was enough to get her to her feet. None of the three noticed; Glory was too busy pounding on Angel.

She took a deep breath and then threw all her strength into a roundhouse kick. Glory went down. The world seemed to hold its breath for a moment.

"Hey, slave, I thought I said to stay down!" Glory got to her feet. "You ruined my shoes, slave!"

Buffy lifted her chin. "I'm not a slave," she said clearly, and threw a punch that Glory didn't manage to avoid. "I'm not a slave." Another punch; Glory caught her fist.

"Honey, that's all you are, and all you'll ever be." Glory grabbed Buffy's hair and forced the slayer to the ground. "You're weak. You're nothing but a slave, a slut, good for nothing but breeding, spewing out more of your pathetic race to be slaves. You're a whore, a breeding mare, nothing more and never will be."

Tears ran down Buffy's face, but she forced a word out anyway. "Buffy."

Glory wrenched her up. "What did you say, slave?"

"Buffy." She pulled herself away from the goddess, leaving Glory a fistful of her long hair. "My name is Buffy, you bitch." She hissed something in that other language, and drew on all the strength of those bonded to her. All over town, in all the hotels, people fainted as she drew more and more strength from them – almost more than she ever had before. "Go to hell, Goddess." A single word was torn from her mouth, and Glory disappeared with a flicker, transported some five hundred miles away.

Buffy's small form crumpled, as if her spirit had fled. It was left to the two vampires to pick up her limp body and carefully carry her back to the Magic Box, where she and her friends had decided to set up camp.

* * *

_Buffy smiled as something tickled her stomach just above her scar. "Mm."_

_"Don't I merit more than a 'mm'?" Alex teased her, moving up her body to kiss her gently._

_"Sleepy."_

_"You're asleep, buttercup, you can't be sleepy," Simone told her with a light laugh as she rubbed her mate's feet._

_Buffy frowned. "This is a dream." Alex had been killed before Simone had been brought into Phtygiktha; they'd never known each other._

_"But it's a nice dream," Simone pointed out, ever the pragmatist._

_"You can't stay here, Annie," Alex said momentarily. "There's things for you to do."_

_"I know. Glory."_

_"No," Simone shook her head, glossy dark curls bobbing against her neck. "Your sister needs you."_

_Buffy's thoughts crept to Ella, but that seemed wrong. Dawn? No. Faith?_

_"You're starting to understand," Alex nodded._

_"You were never supposed to be in Phtygiktha," Simone put in._

_"It was a mistake," Alex agreed._

_"A mistake? Alex, I don't understand."_

_He smoothed her hair back from her face. "You don't have to, yet. But it's important, little Slayer."_

_She stared. "Why are you calling me that, Alex?"_

_"Because that's what you are," Simone told her. "You are the Slayer."_

**Into each generation a slayer is born, one girl in all the world...**

_"Chosen one," Alex continued. "Born with the strength, the skill."_

_"You have us with you always, Annie, and that makes you stronger yet," Simone told her gently. "But there's trials to face, buttercup, and I can't help you with that."_

_Buffy struggled to understand, but her thoughts were clouded. "Simone...please, I don't..."_

_"You're not Annie," Alex said quietly, seriously. "You've known that for a long time. You've got to stop denying who you are. You started, with Glory. But it's going to take a lot more than that." He pulled her to her feet and spun her around. The Master stood before her, a figure that had haunted her dreams for decades. Alex shoved her towards him, and the Master bit into her neck before asking a question._

_"Who are you?"_

* * *

Please review!!! 

Coming next chapter:

Hattie causes a few problems...


	10. Problems

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Language gets a bit heavier from now – Spike does like his words – so the rating may go up soon. Sorry. It's also a bit of a shorter chapter – but I've got a hundred pages now, all told, which is...fifty more than the chapter below. Yay, go me.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Problems

* * *

She regained consciousness with a scream that brought everyone running into the training room at the back of the Magic Box. Max was already there, sitting researching, watching over her. He was the first at her side, helping her stand on shaky legs.

"Are you alright? What happened?" he demanded.

She blinked several times. "I...I had..." She put a hand to her head, as if she could stave off the impending headache. "Ethan?" His cool hands came to rest on her temples, and the headache receded. She leaned into his arms with a grateful sigh. "Thanks."

"Buffy, what happened?" Angel demanded. "You wouldn't fight her..."

Buffy closed her eyes. "It's The Beast," she heard herself say. "She's The Beast."

Whilst her words meant next to nothing to those of her friends who had not been in Phtygiktha, to those who had it was as if their death knell had been sounded. Max staggered back, stopped from falling only by Spike's support. Marcus did fall, knees hitting the wooden floor as he stared in disbelief. Sarah gave a whimpering noise and backed away from the group. Ethan let go of Buffy in shock.

Willow frowned. "Well, yeah," she said cautiously. "We knew that already." She looked accusingly at Spike. "Didn't you tell them Glory's names?"

"We did," Spike said defensively.

"Not all of them," Giles realised with a thoughtful air. "Glory and Glorificus, yes, but not the Beast."

"Well, you might have thought of that before dragging us all the way here," Buffy said quietly. She turned to Max. "Call everyone, tell them I'm very sorry, but we're packing up and going home."

He nodded. "Right. Of course." He left to use the Magic Box phone.

Buffy turned to Sarah. "Sarah, can you buy some supplies? Anything we'll need to close up the portal at home." The woman nodded and followed Max. "Marcus, could you pack up all the stuff here?"

"Sure thing, Annie," he nodded. "Are you alright? She didn't do anything to you, did she? We all felt the pull..."

Buffy shrugged. "I needed to push her off me. She...didn't do anything. Pulled some hair." Her hand drifted up to her scar. "Called me some names." She tried to joke. "She's a real bitch."

Ethan enveloped her in a hug. "You're not whatever she said you were," he told her firmly. "You're not, Annie."

"Hold on, let me see if I've got this right," Faith broke in, looking pissed off. "You're leaving? Just because you've heard of her before?"

"We haven't just heard of her," Buffy told her sharply. "She's from Phtygiktha, Faith. She's one of the triumvirate of rulers there." She shook her head. "I was there the longest out of our group, and even I'd never seen her. I guess I know why, now. But the stories...by Haghd, the two I faced were bad enough. By Haghd, I'm not facing a third, not with Hattie in this town, not with my family here, not when I've been trying to build a new life for myself."

"Annie," Max called from the front of the shop. "Charlotte's here, with Hattie."

Buffy swore in the other language, and stormed into the front of the shop. "Charlotte! I told you to stay away!"

Charlotte shifted Hattie on her hip and glared at her mother. "Really, mom. You actually thought I'd listen to you?"

"Charlotte..."

"It was the Beast, wasn't it?"

Buffy looked away.

"Mommy!" Hattie cried impatiently. "Hug!"

Buffy gathered her daughter into her arms and buried her face in Hattie's curls. "Hey, sweetie."

"Mommy hurt?"

"No, Hattie, I'm not hurt." She set the little girl onto the ground. "You're getting too heavy for me to carry you around," she smiled.

"I'm growing," Hattie nodded seriously. She turned her attention to the other people in the room. Ignoring the ones she knew, she focused her attention on Dawn. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You look like mommy and Jake!"

"Jake?" Dawn questioned.

"My brother," Hattie said proudly. "He's big and grownded up." Her face wrinkled into a frown. "You're different," she pronounced. "You don't belong." She lifted her hand and pointed before Buffy could stop her. "You don't belong," she said again clearly.

Several things happened at once. Charlotte grabbed Hattie and spun her away so she wasn't pointing at her 'aunt' anymore. Sarah reached her arms out and raised a shield around the child. Buffy leapt at Dawn, trying to grab hold of her. Dawn flickered in and out of reality, panic evident on her face. Buffy screamed, pain wracking through her body as she and her sister were pulled through dimensional walls.

And then they were gone.

Silence.

Hattie started crying softly.

Spike was at her side in a moment, lifting her up by her jacket, eyes yellow. "What the fuck did you do?" he growled. "Where the hell is Dawn?"

Max came at him, pulling Hattie out of his hands. "Leave her alone," he snapped. "She's just a child."

"She made Dawn go!"

"She didn't mean to!"

"Mommy's gone to the bad place," Hattie said quietly. All eyes turned to her. "She's gone to the bad place with the Key." She tilted her head, eyes fixed on Spike, who was staring at her with an angry gaze. "Are you going to save her?"

"Why should I?"

"Because you're the Alpha," Hattie said earnestly. "You're like she is."

"Take her back to the hotel, Charlotte," Sarah said after a moment. "Marcus, go with her. We'll stay here." Marcus looked as if he was about to hesitate. "Dammit, Marcus, for once in your life do what you're asked!"

The three left. Ethan started feeling out the spot from where Dawn and Buffy had disappeared. After a moment Giles joined him, the two old sorcerers working together. Max tried to reach out to his former mate through their bond, but couldn't reach her.

Then Ethan cursed.

"What is it?" Angel demanded. "Do you know where she is?"

"Yes," Ethan nodded grimly. "They're in Phtygiktha."

There was silence for a moment, then Anya raised her hand. "At least Glory can't use Dawn now," she offered. Everyone stared at her. "Well, you gotta look on the bright side..."

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box.

Coming next chapter:

Buffy and Dawn in Phtygiktha.


	11. Realisation

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! They're chocolate and sugar and all things nice. Which is very good, since I just watched all of season seven, pretty much in one go, and I'm majorly with the weeping! Read on, dear friends!

* * *

Chapter Ten: Revelations

* * *

"Buffy – where are we?"

Buffy turned two full circles before answering. "This is hell," she whispered. "This is Phtygiktha." She reached out and gripped Dawn's hand. "Dawn, listen to me. No matter what happens, no matter what you see...follow my lead. Don't ask questions, don't complain. That gets you hurt."

"Slaves! Why aren't you working?"

Buffy turned and dropped to her knees, tugging Dawn down with her. "Apologies," she said quietly. "We will return immediately."

"See that you do!" The demon stared at them suspiciously for a moment more, then moved on.

"Hey! You!" Buffy glanced up to see a slave approach them. The girl was covered in dirt, and her hair hung raggedly down to her shoulders. "You! I haven't seen you before, what are you doing here? Did you get separated from your work unit? Why didn't they look out for you?"

"We're new," Buffy said in a low voice. "At least, Dawn is. I've been here before – it'd be hundreds of years ago, now. I'm Annie. Can we join your unit?"

The girl's eyes were wide. "The Annie? The legend? The one who freed all those slaves? You're lying."

Buffy shook her head. "I wouldn't. I'm Annie. I got...pulled back in here. It's been four years, on the outside. How many here?"

"Nearly a thousand." The girl hesitated. "I'm Emmy. I guess you can join the unit...unless Davy says no. He's our leader."

"You have unit leaders? They permit that?"

Emmy shook her head. "No. We've been organising ourselves for centuries. Resistance pockets, I guess." She glanced around, making sure no demon guards were near. "Come on. We're mining down here."

Buffy glanced at Dawn, who so far had been shocked into silence. "It's all right, Dawn," she tried to assure the girl. "I know this place. We'll be fine. Ethan knows how to open a portal, he'll get us out of here in no time at all. For now, just stick close."

They moved into a long, dark passageway, roughly hewn from the rock. Torches were few and far between – Buffy remembered that the guards hadn't thought it worth it, wasting too much light on slaves. She kept hold of Dawn's hand, preventing a dozen stumbles. She herself still saw well in the dark – both because of her Slayer abilities and because of the blood she was dependant on for life.

"Buffy," Dawn whispered at last. "What – how long will we be here, do you think?"

Buffy glanced at her. "It's Annie, here. And I don't know. I'm sorry, I just don't know."

"What happened? What did Hattie do?"

Buffy frowned, keeping her eyes on Emmy's back as they followed her. "I'm not sure, Dawn. I'm really not sure."

The passage opened up into a vast cavern, lit by torches and ringing with the echoes of picks and soft whispers. A guard shouted occasionally, shattering the pseudo-peace. Some pain-filled cries filtered in from somewhere else.

"Home, sweet home," Buffy murmured. "Let's see if I've forgotten how to do this." She took the pick that Emmy held out to her silently, and joined a line of slaves. She weighed the pick in her hands before swinging it down into the rock.

A huge crash resounded through the cavern. Buffy's eyes widened comically.

"Oops."

Guards flocked to their level, and Emmy suddenly disappeared. Buffy shoved Dawn into the hole in the wall she'd just created, and turned to face the guards with defiance.

"Slave! What did you just do?" one of them demanded. "No blood rations for a week!" A week would send her into semi-serious withdrawal. He scowled at her, his wrinkled brown face becoming even more ugly. "You're new."

"No, I'm old," she corrected, coming to a decision that she hoped she wouldn't regret. "I just popped back for a visit. Nice vacation spot, you know." Her eyes flicked around as the guards surrounded her. "I don't want any trouble."

"Trouble found you," the same guard snarled. "On your knees, slave."

Buffy automatically tried to draw on the strength of the others in her bond, but couldn't. She wondered if perhaps she was making a mistake. "No," she said clearly. "I'm not a slave. My name is An-"She paused and looked over the demon's shoulder at Dawn. "Buffy," she said then. "My name is Buffy. The Vampire Slayer, perhaps you've heard of me?"

She received one of the worst beatings she'd ever had in Phtygiktha. Her right arm was broken in two places, and all the toes of her left foot were broken. She was fairly sure several of her ribs were either broken or shattered or both. She didn't have a concussion, she didn't think, but then again she did keep thinking she was seeing Alex, when she knew that simply couldn't be. She thought that her shoulder was dislocated. It had that odd, loose feeling to it – but that could be from the rest of her body being so beaten up.

Someone was trying to force blood past her lips. She lapped it up greedily; the Rakeshia blood would speed her recovery.

"Who?" she managed.

"My name is Davy. You caused quite a stir out there, Annie."

"Nn...Bffy."

"Buffy? That's what your sister said your name is. She wasn't very clear. She said you've been here before?"

"Yeah. Four...year."

"Four years ago, in outside time? So you really are the Annie of the legend?"

"Guess...so." She forced her eyes open; everything was a hazy blur. "Where...Dawn?"

"She's safe," Davy soothed her. "Emmy's looking after her. Don't worry, it's going to be okay. Just...don't use so much strength, next time you try to mine."

Buffy wanted to laugh, but her ribs hurt too much when she even breathed. "Never was...much use at that," she dragged out of her throat. "Used to...breed..."

"Shh, Annie. Don't worry. You just get better."

She lapsed back into unconsciousness with a blissful sigh.

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box.

Coming next chapter:

Ethan pulls them out with some help.


	12. Reappearance

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Sorry for the slight delay. Pain is not of the good. Stupid doctors. Hate 'em all. Mostly. Some are good. Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Reappearance

* * *

"So you can do it? Reopen the portal and bring them back?"

Ethan sighed, not even bothering to look at Xander. "I can. Opening the portal is not the problem, it's finding Annie and Dawn once I've done so."

"Wouldn't they be waiting? I mean, they know we're gonna get them out of there...right?" Willow queried.

"It's not nearly that simple," Max said softly. They were among his first words since Buffy had disappeared. "They'll be slaves. It'll already have been years, if not decades. Annie will be changed. She may not even remember me. Dawn may remember you, but she will be very changed also. There'll be scars, both physical and mental. Dawn will have the dependency on Rakeshia blood, just like the rest of us." He returned to silence, still staring off into space.

"And they may have been moved around," Ethan continued for him. "I'll be able to open the portal fairly close to Annie, as I know her magickal signature, but she may have been separated from Dawn."

"If Dawn's hurt, I'll –"

Ethan cut Spike off with a disparaging look. "Annie's the Slayer. She'd never let harm come to anyone, let alone someone related to her, however tenuously." He rubbed his chin. He needed a shave. "Well, if we're going to do this, we'd better get started." He looked appraisingly over the ragtag group. "I think I'll need some help on this one, to keep it open from this side. Hopefully I won't need to have it open very long, but I'm...not what I used to be, I'm afraid. Ripper, will you oblige?" The Watcher nodded silently. "Good. And Willow. Powerful magicks, you're controlling. You'll help?"

"Of course," Willow murmured. She expected him to ask Tara next, but his gaze travelled over the blonde towards Max.

"Max, I have no right to ask this of you..."

"I'll help," Max said quietly. "Whatever it takes to get Annie out of that place, I'll help."

Ethan nodded. "Right. Willow, we'll need twelve black candles, two handfuls of sage, and a large bowl. Would you be so kind?" The redhead rose and went to fetch the necessary supplies. "Everyone else, keep out of the way," he instructed. "This is dangerous stuff. Don't want to send you in there as we're pulling Annie and Dawn out, now do we?" He flashed a smirk that lacked the usual emotion.

Willow returned with the candles, and she set them out as instructed. Ethan quickly lay out the spell, making them all recite their lines until he was satisfied. Then the four spell casters sat in the middle of the circle formed by the candles, bowl (holding the crushed sage) in front of Ethan. Ethan produced a penknife.

"Blood of my blood," he intoned. "Power of my power. By the gracious North, I offer." He slid the blade across his palm and let his blood drip into the bowl. He passed both to Giles.

"Blood of my blood," the Watcher repeated. "Power of my power. By the all-knowing East, I conjure." He cut his palm and bled into the bowl before passing knife and bowl to Willow.

"Blood of my blood, power of my power," the redhead said, voice filled with strength. "By the prevailing South, I command." More blood, and the bowl and knife were handed on to Max.

"Blood of my blood, power of my power, by the vengeful West, I decree." Max allowed his blood to drip into the bowl. Ethan started chanting in Latin, and Willow shielded her eyes as bright, swirling energy engulfed them. A scream was ripped from Max's throat, soon joined by screams from the otherthree as the portal opened, tearing power from the four that they could ill afford to lose.

Then three figures came hurtling out of the portal, and the energy dissipated.

"Get it!" one of the figures shouted. The other swung a huge pick and embedded the metal into the skull of the third, a demon. "Wahoo! You go, girl!"

"Annie?"

The two women who had just come out of the portal stood back to back, turning in a circle to survey the whole room. The one who appeared older was the first to realise it.

"By Haghd," she breathed. "We're home."

The other – younger and shorter – stared around in confusion. "What – I don't – "

"Dawn?" Spike stepped forward, staring. "Niblet, is that you?"

Dawn broke out of the circle, knocking over several candles as she did so, and flung her arms around him. "Spike! I've missed you so much!"

"How long was it, Annie?" Ethan demanded, rising and catching the other girl in his arms. She stared at him for a moment, then recognition hit her and a tear slid down her cheek.

"Am I really back?" she asked in a whisper. "I didn't think I'd ever get out again." She looked around at everyone, eyes lingering on Max and Spike. "Ten years," she said quietly. "It was ten years."

Dawn nodded. Her hair was short – cropped to about an inch in length. "Yup. I'm all grown up, now."

"All grown up and trying to take on a Rakeshia demon by yourself," Buffy nodded. "Great, Dawnie, really great." She grunted as pain hit her, and she curled over slightly. Dawn rushed to her side.

"Are you alright?" she demanded. "Is the baby...?"

"Baby's fine," Buffy assured her with a smile. "Don't worry." She straightened up. "By Haghd, this is..." Memories rushed into her head. "I have a daughter...Hattie, is she alright? She's...three?"

"Yes," Max nodded, coming close to her. "Annie, do you remember me?"

She nodded. "Max. Second." She looked around the room, naming the people she saw. "Xander. Willow. Sarah. Giles. Angel. Tara? Anya?" The two women nodded. Her gaze turned to Spike. "And Spike. I remember you. Dawn didn't stop talking about you for two years straight." She frowned. "Isn't there someone else? Have I forgotten someone?"

"There was a slayer, wasn't there?" Dawn grimaced. "Ask me to name units Grishnagh, Sultsya and Mervya, and I can do it – remember someone from ten years ago? Forget it."

"Faith," Ethan nodded. "She's patrolling. What else do you two remember?"

"How come Buffy doesn't look any older?" Xander demanded bluntly. "Dawn's all grown up – and hey, she's older than me, now! But Buffy hasn't changed a bit." He looked her over. "Well, a little. You're skinnier."

"And they call me tactless," Anya muttered.

"She's been on half rations," Dawn nodded. "Because of the riot." She sent her sister a glare. "Which you shouldn't have been participating in anyhow, you idiot. You're pregnant. Think of the baby."

"I am," Buffy said firmly. "But it had to be..." She trailed off, sickened. "Oh gods. They'll all be dead or dying, now." She paled. "I think I'm going to be sick." She ran out of the back door into the cool night air and threw up behind a dumpster.

It was Spike's cool hands that held her long hair back. Spike's hand that rubbed her back soothingly. Spike that held her as her frame was wracked with sobs for the people she had, once again, left to die as slaves.

And she didn't question why.

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box.

Coming next chapter:

Dawn talks about Phtygiktha.

Buffy and Spike talk.


	13. Talks

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I'm so sorry for the delay – it's been one hell of a fortnight. My mother fell down the stairs and badly broke her shoulder, and she's had to have it replaced (I saw the X-Ray – cool titanium arm!). I'm writing again, but very slowly, because my ankle is a lot worse, so I'm spending most of my time clock-watching or reading fics to stop myself clock-watching (painkillers are goooood). I'm about twelve chapters ahead on where I've posted, so I'll try to post again soon.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Talks

* * *

"It was…strange. Cold. Very dark. The guards don't like wasting torches on us."

Dawn was curled up on the couch, nursing a cup of tea and blood. The Scooby gang were seated around, watching her intently. She was so different from the girl that had disappeared from the Magic Box only yesterday. Faith had asked her what Phtygiktha was like, since Buffy had barely spoken a word since they'd walked back to 1630 Revello Drive. It was hardly likely Buffy would talk to them about it anyway, they all knew.

"We were mostly mining," Dawn continued. "A type of ore. I think it was chemically similar to iron, but I never quite understood it. Not exactly a genius, here." She gave a tight smile. "It was…" She shook her head. "There were so many people. Slaves. Some of them had been in there for decades – most had been born slaved." She closed her eyes, remembering them. "They've organised themselves into resistance cells, within the work units. That only happened fairly recently – a hundred years ago, it became widespread, although there's always been some form of resistance, ever since Annie." She grinned suddenly. "And the stories they tell – Buffy swears up and down that they're exaggerated, but even so! The things she did!"

"You don't call her Annie," Sarah observed. Dawn shook her head.

"She…called herself Buffy," she explained. "Not many people believed she really was Annie, at first, and she always said that she was the Slayer, so she ought to be called Buffy. She said I shouldn't change my name either, and back then I listened to everything she said."

"Were you ever separated?" Angel wanted to know.

"Oh, yeah, loads of times," Dawn nodded. "Buffy kept getting sent on work details, and I stayed back to look after the pregnant women. Then she always gets in trouble, so she's sent to the cells…but we've always been in the same work unit." She looked down at her hands, scarred and roughened. "She looked out for me."

Buffy sat on the back steps, staring into space. Xander had been right, physically she hadn't aged at all. She had more scars than she had ten years ago – a day ago – and she had a life growing within her, but physically she hadn't aged more than a day.

She knew there would be questions. She wasn't ready to face them, however. Dawn knew. She'd not been able to keep it from her, as Dawn had grown and aged in the hell dimension and she herself had not.

It was strange, being back out. She'd lived most of her life in Phtygiktha. It was home to her – if not a very pleasant home. She knew how to live, in Phtygiktha – how to act and speak and think. Here, in this dimension…she didn't. Not really.

At least she still remembered Hattie, although it had been strange to be greeted by the child, when they'd reached Dawn's old home. For a moment her instinct had been to look behind her, to see who the girl was running towards, but she'd remembered in time, and had hugged Hattie.

Some of the things her daughter had said though, in her rushed jumble of sentences…they confused her, and scared her a little, especially coupled with other things she knew or half-remembered.

Glory.

She knew how to deal with the hell god now – and not just how to run fast enough to get away from her, but how to fight her, and defeat her. Not kill her, of course, that was impossible, but stop her for just long enough. And all she needed to do was stop her for just long enough…

After that, she would dissolve the bond between the escapees. Why there hadn't been pain when she was in Phtygiktha she didn't know, but she would no longer ask them to stay close to her and to each other. They should be free to live their own lives, as she was not.

Because she wasn't. She was the Slayer. She finally understood what that meant. After many years of denial, many years of trying to be something she wasn't…she finally understood.

She sighed and cupped her chin with her hands. Life sucked. Sometimes she wished she were just sixteen again. But then she wouldn't have met her mates, or had her children, or be pregnant, or any of it.

She finally lifted her eyes to the leather-clad figure sitting next to her. "Thank you. For staying out here with me."

Spike shrugged awkwardly. "Didn't think you ought to be alone, luv."

"I appreciate it."

Spike was one of the things Hattie had babbled about. She'd told Buffy that the 'blond old man' was hurting and that he was Alpha.

Buffy shook her head. Hattie didn't know what she was talking about. Spike wasn't an Alpha, and certainly not her Alpha. She didn't think.

She risked a glance at him. He was smoking – his third cigarette, she thought, or possibly his fourth. She hated cigarettes, but it wasn't about to kill him – or her, for that matter.

"So, pet, who's the father?"

She shook herself out of her thoughts. "Huh?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "The father of the baby, Slayer. Y'know, the one in your womb?"

Buffy flushed a little. "Oh. Sorry. Um, he was…a guy in another unit. We were paired to breed."

Spike frowned. "That doesn't sound overly pleasant."

"It wasn't," Buffy said with a tight smile. "But Mark was a decent enough guy, and it's not like we had much of a choice." She rubbed her hand over her abdomen. "Not regretting it, though. I've done too much regretting in my life."

He tilted his head. "How's that, pet?"

"Being a slayer…being a slave, not being able to save the people I cared about, people I loved…I killed my first mate, Spike, and was forced to watch as my first child was murdered in front of me. Then Dave – Hattie's father – and the things I did in Phtygiktha…" She shook her head. "I can't regret it anymore. It's all made me who I am, and why should I regret that?"

"So you don't have any regrets?"

Buffy smiled an impish smile suddenly. "Well, there is one."

Spike finished his cigarette and raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I slept with this guy once…never got to tell him how good it was." Her eyes danced with merriment. "Hey, could you pass on the message for me? I think you know him – peroxide hair, wears leather, likes to think he's a big bad evil vampire…

"Hey!" Spike interrupted. "I'm bad, alright! I just…have a soul, too!" He paused. "Wait, hold on a minute…"

She grinned. "Slow much? Guess that peroxide really did cause brain damage." Her grin faded. "Spike, I'm going to need your help."

"You've got your whole group, Slayer, why d'you need me?"

She hesitated. "I…Spike, do you trust me?"

"Not as far as Giles could throw you," Spike said with a grin. "Nah, just kidding. 'Course I trust you."

"Hattie said something to me," she said abruptly. "I'm not sure how, or why…she's always been a little more aware of things than other people – she can tell if people are vampires, or if a demon is from another dimension, little things like that. And she's always been able to tell what kind of mate everyone in our group is. But she said something to me…"

"She said I'm Alpha," Spike nodded. "She said it to me earlier, after you and the Bit had disappeared." He glanced at her curiously. "What exactly does that mean, luv?"

She grimaced. "You want me to explain the whole family structure to you? Now?" She shook her head. "For that, I need…" She trailed off, a look of thoughtful remembrance on her face. "I seem to remember liking ice cream."

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm sure you do. Ice cream bar's open."

"Let's go."

* * *

Please leave a review in the little box.

Coming next chapter:

Spike, Buffy, ice cream.


	14. Icecream

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Some of you have requested answers…but I'm afraid I just can't give it to you yet! You'll have to just stay tuned…

Chapter Thirteen: Ice-cream.

Spike watched the petite slayer with amusement. "You'll never eat all that, pet."

Buffy glanced up. "Sure I will. It's ice cream." She grinned. "I'd forgotten about all the flavours. There's the normal ones like raspberry ripple and cookie dough, and then there's cookie dough fudge mint chip, and –"

"Yeah, I know," Spike interrupted. "You'll get fat if you eat that huge bowl, though."

"Nope. It all goes to the baby." She smiled softly. "One of the perks."

"Of being the slayer?"

"No, of being pregnant." She savoured the taste of the ice cream. "Mm. Thanks, Spike."

"Not a problem." He leaned back as she regarded him. He looked strange in the bright artificial lights. Wrong, somehow. Strange. "So, pet, you gonna lay it all out nice and clear for me?"

Buffy shrugged. "As clear as it can be laid. It's kinda complicated."

"I'm a vampire, pet," he reminded her. "Our families are fairly strange anyhow."

"Yes," Buffy nodded. "It's similar, in a way. Some of the structures, anyway." She took a deep breath. "Basically, there are family groups called clans, headed by an Alpha, or Alpha pair. But an Alpha pair is really rare – single Alphas are much more common. Then there are other mates, all equal to each other as mates. But if someone mates more than once, their first mate is superior to their second mate, and so on."

Spike nodded slowly. "So Alex was your first mate, and Max your second, so Alex would have been superior to Max."

"Yes," Buffy agreed. "And Simone was my third mate. Now both Simone and Alex are dead, that leaves Max my only remaining mate, but he doesn't become superior to Max – he's still Second."

"Right," Spike muttered. "Makes sense. So how does you sleeping with Ethan fit in?"

"Only Alpha mates are bound to be faithful to each other," Buffy explained, signalling the waitress for another bowl of ice cream. "It can be amazing, when that happens, but it can be terrible. One of my friends – Sally, her name was. She was in an Alpha mate pair. She was my clan head. Then her mate died, and she couldn't cope without him. Withered away." Her face grew tight. "That's when they named me head." For a few moments she ate ice cream in silence. Then she sighed and looked up at him. "So I was suddenly in charge of this extended family of slaves. I knew I was an Alpha before then – it was fairly obvious, really – but I wasn't mated, or anything. And keeping a clan in order is pretty tough. There was our whole unit, plus some – we got moved around a fair bit, back then, so the clans were all spread thin. But there were Sally's children and their mates, and other mated pairs, other singles…"

"What makes a clan, a clan?" Spike inquired, leaning forwards. "I mean, you can't all mate with each other…"

"No. It's…hard to explain. It's something to do with the blood and the close proximity. I'm not quite sure exactly how it works." She shrugged. "My clan now is all of the people I got out of Phtygiktha, and their children. Ella and Marian, and Sarah and Alex and Toni and Marcus and everyone. They're my clan, my responsibility."

"And Ethan?"

"He's my lover. Not a mate, although I think he wants to be." She looked away. "I won't mate again, unless I find my Alpha. It hurts too much."

He covered his hand with hers in sympathy, and she blinked at him. She'd never thought that William the Bloody could be so…nice.

"So," he said after a moment. "Than brings me to my next question, luv, if you're up to it." She nodded silently. "Why did the little bitlet call me Alpha?"

Buffy carefully avoided looking at him. "Um. I'm not quite sure."

Spike lifted an eyebrow. "Is that right? We'll try another, then. How is it that some people are Alphas, and some aren't?"

She visibly relaxed. "Oh, that's easy. Alphas are natural leaders. Not just people who lead easily, but people born to it. They're always the strongest, to be able to protect the others, and usually smarter." She grinned. "I'm the exception to that one. Dumb blonde."

"You're not stupid," he rolled his eyes. "Though you bloody well act like it sometimes." He reached over and scooped some ice cream up with his fingers and proceeded to lick them clean with great pleasure. Buffy tried not to squirm. Dammit, it hadn't been that long since she'd slept with someone…two months…even if Mark hadn't been that good…

She shook herself. Bad Buffy, she told herself sternly. Vampires can smell arousal.

"So," Spike went on, seemingly oblivious of her internal disorder, "You're an Alpha. I get that, you're the Slayer –"

"A slayer," Buffy corrected him. "Don't forget Faith."

"The Slayer," Spike repeated, sending her a warning glare. "But why would your daughter call me an Alpha?"

She couldn't resist teasing him a little. "What, you don't think of yourself as a leader? Strongest, bravest, smartest? Well, maybe not smartest…" A growl left his throat, and she giggled. "Sorry. No, seriously, it's not all that surprising. You're a master vampire. One of the best I remember fighting, actually." He smirked. "Don't get up yourself, I don't remember fighting many others. But thinking about it, Angel's probably an Alpha too."

"Which would be why Max saw him as a threat," Spike nodded. "Makes sense." Buffy frowned faintly. "Oh, right, you don't remember that?"

"Sorry," she mumbled, her good mood suddenly dissipating. "It gets…hard. To keep things straight." She gave a sudden, bitter laugh. "I don't remember being a child. I barely remember high school. I don't remember my twenty-first birthday and I don't remember what colour my mother's eyes were. I don't even remember what I used to look like." She met his eyes. "Spike…I'm not who I was. I'm nearly as old as you are – I've lived nearly as many years. I'm eighty-five – that's how many years I've lived. But I don't look a day over twenty-two, and I'm never going to."

Spike's mouth thinned, and he looked as though he was going to ask the one question that she really, really didn't want to ask her. He didn't ask.

"How d'you get that scar on your face?" he asked instead. Her hand lifted automatically to trace it from her eyebrow down to her chin.

"Got in a fight with half a dozen guards, just after my first child was born," she said with a faint smile of reminiscence. "I was really weak – I wasn't getting enough blood, and I was breastfeeding, and she was my first…I'd never looked after a baby before. By Haghd, I was a mess." She gave a short but genuine laugh. "Alex had literally shoved me out of the unit bunker, he said I was so hopeless. So I picked a fight where I shouldn't have. Well, it was my responsibility. They were beating on this teen, Maggie, and she was a member of my clan. She was pretty badly injured, so I just…went at them." She looked down. "Wasn't at even half strength. Didn't have a weapon, and they had picks and axes. One of them…caught his pick across my face. It got infected, so it scarred over."

Spike shook his head fondly. "You always look out for people," he observed. "Even when you shouldn't."

Buffy was startled. "You think I shouldn't have helped her?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant, pet." He frowned, trying to find the right words. "I mean…Ethan told us about you bringing Dave and Tom – that's their names, right? – out of that place. And Dave was hitting you. You still look out for them." He frowned. "And how did he get away with hitting you, if you're his Alpha?"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I really don't want to talk about that."

"And really, pet, what did those people ever do for you, that you had to get them out?"

She jerked, stunned. "How can you ask that? You know about the bond. They gave me their strength, their lives, their blood. You of all people should know how important blood is. It's life, it's what keeps us moving, keeps us warm, keeps us alive. How could I not get as many of them out as I could? People make mistakes, Spike – God knows I've made enough of them – and Phtygiktha messed us all up so badly. It took weeks for Dave and Ethan to put me back together, and even then I only really woke up once I got pregnant with Hattie." She shook her head in disbelief. "They're my clan, Spike, my family. Can you honestly tell me that you'd leave Angel or Drusilla or Darla or any of your vampiric family in a place like that?"

Spike looked at her seriously. "No, pet. But then again, we wouldn't have been so stupid as to get ourselves into that mess in the first place."

Buffy blinked several times, her anger fading. "Did you just call me stupid?"

The sound of the master vampire roaring with laughter was a memory she swore to herself that she would not forget.

Reviews are my happy thoughts.

Coming next chapter:

Buffy and Faith patrol.

Ethan and Giles…talk.


	15. Restarting

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Sorry for the delay. Things in Real Life aren't great at the moment. It's going to be any interesting Christmas, to say the least…But a fairly long chapter for you now.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Restarting

* * *

"Four."

"No, three, that last one ran into the stake on purpose."

Faith scoffed. "Oh, you just don't like losing."

"You're right, I don't, but that last one had suicidal tendencies, I swear." Buffy gave her sister slayer a grin. After she and Spike had returned to the Summers' residence, the elder slayer had declared that she was now too hyped up to sleep, and would Faith patrol with her? Faith had agreed with no hesitation. Now the Chosen Two were making their way through the many cemeteries of Sunnydale, each trying to stake more vampires than the other.

"I still say he counted," Faith said. "I dusted him. He went dust on my stake." She smirked. "I'm in the lead, B."

"Not for long, little sister," Buffy promised. She let out a great whoop suddenly and did a series of flips, landing in a handstand on a gravestone. "By Haghd, it's good to be back!"

Faith followed her with an amused smile. "Way I hear it, you couldn't wait to get out of Sunnydale before."

"Oh, but the feeling here!" There was an expression of such freedom on Buffy's face. "I mean, it might be because of Glory, or it might be a Hellmouth thing – or maybe just me, I've changed – but there's so much energy all around! Can't you feel it?"

Faith shrugged. "I guess. I mean, there's more demon activity here." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you gonna get down from there, B? You're making me dizzy."

"Sorry." Buffy righted herself. "Too much ice cream, I think." She looked around. "Oh come on. There have to be more vampires out tonight than this."

"We have dusted a load already," Faith pointed out mildly. It was mildly unsettling, seeing the other slayer like this. Faith had acted just as carefree when she'd arrived in Sunnydale. It hadn't lasted too long. Maybe it was just a sugar high, though.

"I know," the other slayer nodded. "I'm just…I don't know. It's weird being out of that place, and Spike, and Ethan – by Haghd, Ethan!" Her happiness fizzled out. She felt sick suddenly. "I haven't said anything to him, and we were lovers…I'm such a frazlok trynp!"

"A what now?"

"Oh, sorry. Um. Roughly translates as slutty bitch. I think." Buffy chewed her lip. "What do I say to him? I mean, if it was a mate, it would be a different story, but Ethan's always been the jealous type, and he – oh!" Relief showed on her face. "I'll just get him and Giles back together."

Faith thought perhaps she ought to get her hearing checked. "Sorry, B, I thought you just said you'd get Ethan and Giles back together."

Buffy nodded seriously. "Ethan's missed Giles for years, and anyway, I can't be with him anymore – even if it hadn't been ten years, I think…I think I've found my Alpha mate."

Faith nodded. "You and Spike, it's wicked obvious. But Ethan and Giles? As in Giles, my Watcher? The stuffy old English guy?" She made a disgusted expression. "Don't get me wrong, I've nothing against the gays, but…ewww! They're so old, and wrinkly."

"You gotta seize the moment, Faith," Buffy told her sister slayer. "Otherwise it's gone. Tomorrow we could all be dead. I learnt that recently." She shrugged. "And technically Spike and I are older than both of them, and – hey, we are not obvious!"

Faith smirked. "I know Spike fairly well," she said. "He's got that love struck look. Angel says he used to be like that all the time with Drusilla. And hello, taking you for ice cream? That's…sweet, in a pre-teen kind of way…"

"Oh." Buffy was silent for a moment as they left the cemetery. "So. How long have you been a slayer?"

"Two years," Faith answered, eyes continually roving their surroundings – as much for guys as for vampires. "Been here nearly that."

"You're good."

"Thanks. You're better."

Buffy gave a small smile. "Had longer to learn, to practice in." She stretched. "Plus the Rakeshia blood gives me more of an edge. Enhanced vision, slightly stronger…things like that." She shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather coat. "Shorter pregnancy, as well. This little one will be kicking, soon enough."

"Really?" Faith was awed. "I never thought about kids. Even before the slayer thing, y'know? Not my scene. But you do it so well. Hattie, and Charlotte – you're like, this complete maternal figure."

"Well, I'm head of the family," Buffy said pragmatically. "All the refugees," she explained on Faith's look. "And their children. And Dawn, of course. And Ethan." She frowns. "That means Giles too, if he and Ethan get back together. And you, of course."

"Me? How do I fit in?"

Buffy gave an odd, crooked smile. "We're slayers. The same powers, same birthright. What are we if not family? Not in the same way as the others are, but still."

Faith rolled her eyes. "You're making no sense, B."

"We're a family like…like a wolf pack, I guess. I'm the Alpha, the head of the clan. Oh, look, vampires!"

Faith watched as Buffy dispatched the two vampires with practised ease. A wolf pack. She could see that. The refugees did take care of each other like pack members. But Buffy wasn't a wolf. She was a panther, lethal and graceful and aware of every inch of herself. It was strange. She'd been hearing stories about Buffy for nearly two years, and now she was seeing the girl – the woman – in action.

"So," she said when Buffy had returned to her side and their feet had turned towards the Summers' home. "You and Spike."

"There is no me and Spike," Buffy said with an edge of frustration in her voice. "Not yet, anyway, and I'm not up for casual sex right now. I need someone to help me, to be there for me. With Hattie, and the baby, and the clan." She shrugged. "It's different, now. Ten years is a long time. I mean…I remember Spike more than anyone else, which would make sense if he's an Alpha, but he'll want to stay here, and I have responsibilities at home."

"You're not giving him enough credit. You're right, you don't know him. You don't really know any of us – except Dawn, I guess." Faith looked at her seriously. "But we've got bigger problems. You have any idea how we can sort out Glory?"

Buffy grinned, a fiercely predatory grin that made Faith fervently wish that she would never be on this Slayer's bad side. "Oh, I've got a few thoughts."

Across town, sitting on the back steps where Buffy and Spike had earlier been seated, Giles' cigarette stubs were joining Spike's. He didn't usually smoke – he hadn't for years – but he felt that the current situation called for it.

He had changed so much over the past four years since his slayer had run away. Perhaps too much, he reflected with a scrap of melancholy. He barely recognised the man he had been then. He was far more like the youth he'd been, now. A person he'd hoped never to be again.

"I thought you quit."

Giles let a sigh escape his lips. "Ethan," he acknowledged. "I thought you were asleep, like everyone else."

"I still don't sleep well with others in the room." There was a mild note of censure in his voice at the intimation that Giles might have forgotten. "Besides, I thought I'd leave the couch to you."

"I'll go home in a bit."

"Ah. That bottle of scotch calling you, is it?"

"Chrissakes, Ethan. You don't know a damn thing about me anymore, don't assume you do." Although that bottle of scotch was looking like rather a good idea. No. He didn't drink alone anymore.

"I'll join you, if you like," Ethan offered, dropping gracefully onto the steps next to Giles. "Could use a drink." An odd look passed over his face. "I'm going to be getting a talk in the morning, I'm fairly sure."

"A talk?"

"Annie. Ten years is a long time, Ripper. People change. She's pregnant. And I was never the…what is it the Americans call it? The long haul guy."

"You seemed close enough a few days ago," Giles observed.

"But it wasn't just a few days ago." Ethan regarded him keenly. "You haven't quite grasped it yet, have you, Rupert? She's older than both of us put together. She's lived longer, done more, seen more atrocities than we could ever dream of. And knowing the kind of dreams you used to have, that's saying a lot." He nicked a cigarette from the packet on the step, and lit it with Giles' lighter. "A day for us, mate, but ten years of her life, and of Dawn's life. Yeah, we were close. But things change."

"Not us." Giles couldn't look at him. "We're still arguing."

"You wouldn't be you if we didn't argue, Rupert." A fond smile tugged at the sorcerer's mouth. He stretched his long legs out in front of him. "Now, Ripper, are we going to get drunk and shag, or do I have to actually seduce you again?"

Giles dropped his cigarette and put it out with his heel. "I think drunk and shag is the way to go right now, Ethan, if you have no objections."

"None at all." He glanced up as the two slayers entered the back yard. "Hello, Annie. Have fun?"

"Yep. Nearly twenty vampires." Buffy's eyes twinkled with mirth as she glanced between him and Giles. "Ethan, sweetie, can I have a word?" She grabbed Ethan and pulled him upright and over to the other side of the garden.

"Save the speech, love," Ethan said gently. "I know. Ten years is a long time."

"No, I wasn't going to say that at all," Buffy shook her head. "Although that's very valid, and I'm glad you're not heartbroken over it. I just wanted to say go for it. With Giles? I know you miss him. And you need your mate back."

Ethan glanced over at Giles, who was watching them cautiously. "Yes. I do. Although I wouldn't call him that."

Buffy shrugged. "As close as makes no difference. And you're my family, so it's just easier if I call it that. You don't mind, do you?"

He smiled and kissed her. "No, Buffy, I don't mind. Go find your Alpha."

Buffy left him and went over to Giles. "Well, Giles? Get going!" she said mock-severely. "I just gave my blessing. Don't make me regret it." She followed Faith into the house.

Giles raised his eyebrows as Ethan sauntered towards him. "I don't have a bloody clue what she was on about." Ethan took his hand and pulled him upright before kissing him hungrily. "And suddenly I don't care, either."

"Doesn't matter," Ethan murmured. "Let's go to your place, Rupert."

* * *

Please review…It'd make me feel better…

Coming next chapter:

Hattie gets to know Spike and Angel.


	16. Morning

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Yeah, so Hattie bugged me about this one. Sorry…

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Morning

* * *

Angel tried to hide a yawn behind his hand. Spike's amused eyes caught his for a moment, telling him that he'd not succeeded. The child seated between them, however, hadn't noticed anything, so that was all right.

Hattie had woken up at six in the morning after a full night's sleep. She was perhaps the only one in the household to have had that, and after trying – and failing – to wake her mother up, she'd gone to the next best thing. She'd carefully descended down to the dark basement and woken up Spike and Angel. Now they were all sitting on the couch watching cartoons. Every time either vampire tried to get up, Hattie would send him a quelling glare worthy of her mother.

It was now ten, and still nobody else was awake. Hattie slid off the couch and padded over to turn the television off. "I'm bored," she announced.

"Why don't you go and play a game," Angel suggested quickly. "Away. Upstairs. I'm sure there's some in Dawn's room."

Hattie wrinkled her nose. Spike had to admit she looked rather cute. "No. Don't wanna play by myself." She wriggled back onto the couch and sat in Spike's lap. "Go grr," she commanded.

"What's that, little bitlet?" Spike queried.

She sighed impatiently. "Go grr," she repeated. "With teeth. An' yellow eyes."

Spike rolled his eyes. "You'll get scared," he warned her. Hattie shook her head seriously. "You will, pet." The child's lower lip trembled. She bore a striking resemblance to Dawn in that instant, and Spike sighed. "Why me? Why not the wa – uh. Angel."

"'Cos you're Alpha," came the instant reply. She leaned in close and whispered in a not-so-quite voice. "And his hair is funny."

Spike managed not to laugh. "True enough, bitlet." He hesitated a moment, then showed his true demonic face. He expected Hattie to shriek and run, but the child surprised him by reaching up a hand and touching the ridges on his forehead.

"You're not so bumpy," she said decisively. "Mommy fought bumpy vampires. She said I should run into th'house, but I hid 'stead." She slipped off Spike's lap as he returned to his human visage, and climbed onto Angel. "You're comfy," she told him. "Spike's bonedy."

'Bonedy?' Spike mouthed incredulously at his grandsire. Angel shrugged uncomfortably. He hadn't been around small children – without intending on eating them, anyway – in more than two centuries. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with the small child with Buffy's mannerisms and a stranger's looks. Especially when said child was snuggling into his chest.

There was a noise from above, and Dawn almost fell down the stairs. Her eyes were only half-open and her hair stuck up in all directions as she headed straight for the kitchen and took a bottle of blood from the fridge. The three on the couch watched in fascination as she drained nearly half the contents of the bottle in one go, then put it back in the fridge and yawned.

"Tha's better," she muttered. She stretched and turned – and let out a shriek when she saw the three watching her. "By Haghd! Lurk much!"

"We're sitting," Spike pointed out with great aplomb. "Not lurking. Hungry, were you?"

"Shaking," Dawn corrected. She flopped down in an armchair. "What're you guys doing up? You went to bed as late as the rest of us."

"I was bored," Hattie said importantly. "They were watching cartoons with me."

Dawn blinked several times. "Cartoons? Spike and Angel? With you?" She bit her lip hard to keep from laughing. "Good one, Hattie."

"Knock it off, Niblet," Spike complained. Hattie wriggled off Angel's lap, to the vampire's great relief, and started climbing over Dawn to inspect her aunt's hair. "Buffy awake yet?"

Dawn raised her eyebrows sceptically and shifted to allow the three-year-old better access to her head. "Are you kidding me? After a sugar binge and a night's demon hunting? She's wiped. She won't wake up until midday or later – and then probably only if someone waves a mug of blood under her nose." She gave a giggle. "Hattie, that tickles."

Hattie's head popped up from behind Dawn. She looked sincerely unapologetic. "Sorry."

"You are not, you little monster," Spike smirked and stood up. "Hungry, Peaches?"

Rolling his eyes but otherwise not bothering with a recrimination for the nickname, Angel nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." Spike went through to the kitchen. "Hey, could you put some marshmallows in for me?" Spike answered in the affirmative. Dawn gave Angel a curious look.

"Spike's rubbing off on you," she commented with a yawn. She twisted and plucked Hattie off her easily. "Sorry, Hattie, I'm just too tired to play right now. Why don't you go see if Faith's awake?"

"Don't wanna," Hattie whined. "Wanna play."

"Well, want doesn't always get," she was told firmly. In the kitchen, Spike raised his eyebrows at this maturity from the girl who had, not two days ago, sometimes acted like a spoilt little brat. But it wasn't two days ago, he reminded himself firmly.

He returned to the lounge with two mugs of heated blood just in time to see Hattie wriggle out of Dawn's arms and gallop up the stairs, leaving Dawn with a comically surprised look on her face. The surprise turned to horror as thumps came from the room Buffy was sleeping in.

"Oh god," she panicked. "We're all gonna die. Hattie woke her up!"

"It is ten thirty," Angel pointed out. "She should probably wake up anyway…"

"Harriet Eve Robinson!"

"This is so bad," Dawn whimpered.

"Why? What's she gonna do?" Spike demanded.

"WHO THE HELL LET HER WAKE ME UP?"

Hattie came skipping down the stairs, a smile on her face. "Mommy awake."

"Yeah, Mommy is awake, and Mommy is very angry!" Buffy stomped down the stairs. "Spike. Angel. Which one of you let her wake me up?" The angriest expression they had ever seen was on her face. She was scarier in that moment than the Master and Darla put together to the two Aurelian vampires.

"Wasn't me," Angel said quickly.

"Me neither," Spike added hurriedly.

"It was Auntie Dawn!" Hattie proclaimed, beaming. "Her hair's funny."

"Dawnie."

"Buffy?"

"You have five seconds before I rip off your head and feed it to a half-starved murdite."

Dawn winced. "Uh, Buffy, there aren't actually any murdites in this dimension…"

"Five."

"And it wasn't my fault, she's really slippery, and I swear she used magick – "

"Four."

Dawn rose and edged towards the kitchen. "And. Um. Yeah. I'll…"

"Three."

"Going now."

"Two."

"Gone!" And she disappeared through the kitchen and out of the back door. Buffy gave a sigh and turned to her daughter.

"Hattie, you should never wake mommy up," she admonished gently. "Unless it's an emergency. I was really tired, and you know I need lots of sleep with the new baby coming."

Hattie nodded seriously. "I know."

"So why did you wake me up?"

"I was bored," the child pouted. "Angel an' Spike wouldn't play with me."

Buffy raised her eyes skyward. "Couldn't one of you just have played for a little while?" she asked in a quiet, resigned tone. "I just want to sleep." She whirled around suddenly to face the front door. "Spike, get Hattie and Dawn out of here, now," she said in a low voice. "Angel, get Faith and Max."

"Why, what is it?"

"Glory."

* * *

Please leave a contribution in the little box.

Coming next chapter:

Buffy and Glory go 'all out'.


	17. Skirmish

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I hope you all had a good holiday, and that none of you were personally affected by the tsunami disaster in Southeast Asia. All my prayers and hopes are with those who have survived.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Skirmish

* * *

"Slave," Glory sneered.

"It's Buffy, actually," Buffy corrected coolly. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Hey, little girl," the goddess scowled. "Don't you talk like that to me. I'm a god."

Buffy raised her eyebrow. "Of what, skanky outfits?" She glanced derogatively over the goddess' dress. "I mean, give it a rest. You look like a ho." Glory looked down at herself. "And that nail polish? Do you really wanna be giving off that impression?" She felt, rather than saw, Faith join her.

"You pathetic little bug," Glory sneered after a moment. "I cannot believe I even listened to that. You mortals are all so pathetic. Thinking words can actually hurt a god?"

Something within Buffy suddenly got very angry. "Don't call me mortal," she said very softly.

"I want my Key," Glory said abruptly. "You'd better give it to me, little girl, or – "

"You'll bore me to death?" Buffy interrupted sweetly. "You want the Key, Glorificus? Alright. I'll make you a deal." She lifted her chin defiantly. "I'll give you the Key if you guess my real name."

Confusion flittered across Glory's face. "What are you talking about, Slayer?" she demanded. "You just told me your name. I guess the clichés about dumb blondes really are true."

"My name, Goddess, or I'm going to destroy you."

There was something so rigid, so unyielding in Buffy's countenance that for a moment the hell god felt – was it? – a flicker of fear. Faith, not able to see Buffy's expression, shivered. Max, standing further back, smiled grimly to himself. He'd seen her acting a little like this before. Spike, next to Buffy's mate, let a slow smirk creep over his face. This was the Slayer he remembered, giving ultimatums and threats that would without a doubt be followed through. There would be fire in her eyes, he conjectured, and in a moment – yes, she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"What's it going to be, Glory?" Buffy asked finally, softly. Then without waiting for an answer, her leg shot out and she kicked Glory against the front door. The door snapped into several pieces with the force of it, and Glory ended up flat on her back on the front path. Buffy stalked out after her.

Yes, Faith mentally smiled. Buffy was a panther.

"You wanna have a guess?" Buffy questioned, giving the hell goddess another kick before she could get up. This one sent her onto the road. "Although I can tell you right now, you're not gonna get it right."

"Slayer," Glory shrieked. "What are you doing, you stupid slave!" She got up and punched Buffy hard, sending the slayer stumbling back into a tree. "How dare you kick me!"

"Nope, guess again," Buffy said, glancing at Faith, who was circling them warily.

Glory laughed scornfully. "You think I'm gonna play your stupid games, Slayer? Sweetie, you have some serious issues." She grabbed Buffy's arm and wrenched it back. There was a sickening snap, and Buffy almost bit through her lip in order to keep from crying out. A gleeful look suddenly lit up Glory's face. "Say, slave, you've been somewhere else recently." Buffy's eyes widened and she pulled herself away from Glory. "You've been home!" Glory gave her a tender look. "How is my dear own lovely hell dimension?"

"Fine," Buffy bit off, leaping up to grab a branch and using her momentum to give two hearty kicks to Glory's head. She dropped back down, cradling her arm. "They don't miss you."

"Still breeding?"

"Mostly." It was kind of odd, part of Buffy's mind mused. She'd had a conversation a little like this with Glory's siblings.

"So how's the kid?"

Buffy's eyes grew even wider. Of course Glory would have sensed it – they'd touched, and Buffy had so much of Phtygiktha in her in one form or another…

She took a step back, then another and another.

"Hey Glory! Got a tip for you!" Glory turned to be hit across the face with a very large hammer, wielded by Faith. "Don't turn your back on a slayer," the brunette continued. There was a feral look on her face as she swung the hammer again, knocking Glory off her feet. The goddess's temple was bleeding, and she touched her blood incredulously.

"You hit me?" she demanded, getting back up. "And you ruined my dress!" The seams of the dress had indeed been ripped apart. Faith smirked.

"Good," she said. "B's right – the skanky look is really out." She tried to punch Glory, but the goddess grabbed her wrist and used the slayer's momentum to send her crashing into the flowerbeds. Glory stalked up to the slayer and went to grab her, intent on causing as much hard to this girl as possible, but she was stopped by Buffy, who grabbed her by the shoulders and wrenched her away with all her strength, ignoring the pain of her arm.

"You stay the hell away from my family," the blonde seethed, teeth bared in an unconscious signal of superiority. "If you know what's good for you, you stay the hell away."

"I'm gonna get my Key one way or another, puny little girl," Glory warned, evidently realising the necessity of retreat at this point. "You just better hope you're not in the way when I do."

"You'd better hope I'm not," Buffy retorted coolly. "I dealt with your brothers in Phtygiktha, Goddess, and I can deal with you here. Now get out."

Glory left without a fanfare, storming down the street. Her minions joined her partway down, and Buffy watched with grim satisfaction as several of them gave her fearful looks over their shoulders.

"That's right," she muttered. "Run and hide." She turned to see Faith already on her feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "No broken bones." She looked pointedly at Buffy's dangling left arm. "We should really get you to a hospital, B."

"Not yet. Dawn and Hattie." The older slayer returned to the house determinedly. Her eyes lighted on Spike. "Where are they?"

"They're safe," he assured her. "Angel took them into the sewers. I'll go get them back." He took in her appearance critically. "Need to get that arm sorted, pet," he said gently.

She shrugged, and then winced. "Ow. Maybe you're right." She moved to return the way she'd come, then stopped and looked back at him, stepping back into the more shadowed area of the lounge. "Tell them I'm sorry for yelling at them?"

Spike gave a strange half-smile. "They know, luv." He stepped close to her and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Buffy closed her eyes and gave a soft sigh. "Now get to the hospital, pet."

Buffy scowled as he gave her a gentle shove towards the door. "Tease."

"Go!"

She went.

* * *

Please leave a review.

Coming next chapter:

Memories and thoughts of a slayer.


	18. Reminscence

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Sorry it took so long. Life, exams and essays are all contributing factors. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Reminiscence

* * *

It was nearly dark by the time the hospital released Buffy. She walked slowly through the streets of Sunnydale, contemplating what she had to do. Her arm was in a cast, and it would take at least a few days to heal – even then, it would be painful. Glory was stronger than she had expected – she was supposed to be weaker. Significantly weaker. That's what Glory's brother god had said. That she would be weaker in this dimension. 

But she wasn't, and Buffy had barely held her own even with her new-found power. She'd shared her ideas with Faith, during their patrol, but now she wasn't sure if any of them would actually work.

Part of her was screaming out for violence. The part that was fuelled by the Rakeshia blood she was dependant on for life craved the bloodlust, the adrenaline rush, the hot and heady thrill of a fight. The blood, as far as she knew, elicited these feelings only in her. None of the others had ever mentioned anything about it – not Alex, not Max or Simone, not Dawn or Ella or Dave. Maybe it was a slayer thing. Certainly the slayer was all about violence, all about fighting. She knew that now. Accepted it. The last ten years had been plagued with dreams – not prophetic dreams, she didn't think, but slayer dreams none the less. Dreams filled with familiar faces, friends or acquaintances old and not so old, used by the source of the slayer to show her the way. Alex and Simone. Kendra and Drusilla. Her mother, sometimes. Her children. Ethan and Giles. Other slayers had come to her, too, to show her what she was. The Slayer was a creature of darkness and strength.

Another part of her, a part that was still rooted in Phtygiktha, wanted to use all her magickal strength and blast Glory into a million tiny pieces. She could probably do it, but there was no guarantee that it would stop Glory for more than a few days, or weeks at best. And besides, Ethan had always reminded her that her magickal actions had consequences, sometimes bad ones. It had been different in Phtygiktha, where Buffy had learnt to control the magickal forces in the dimension and in herself. Everything here had consequences, and unfortunately near-disintegration would not only have consequences but was also classed as dark magick. She was never going near that stuff again.

And then there was a tiny place, hidden deep inside her, that just wanted to take Hattie, and Charlotte and Jake and their children, and Ella and Marian, and Dawn and Spike – and run. Run as far and as fast as they could, get her family out of harm's way.

But then, her conscience reminded her, what about Faith and Angel and Giles and Ethan and Willow and Xander, and the others? What about her clan? What about Sunnydale, what about the world?

Having spent ten years coming to terms with being the slayer, there was no way Buffy could turn her back on that now. Not after so many years of trying to deny who she really was.

She found herself at the old high school. Nothing had been built on the site yet; the ruins hadn't even been torn down. Buffy supposed there had been other things to occupy the town. There was an aura of death around the old campus that simultaneously called to the slayer and repelled the woman.

She had precious few memories of this place. Mostly she remembered the library, and Giles in it. Giles with his continuous cups of tea and his leather-bound books and his loathing of computers and his constant wish to see her stay alive. Willow and Xander – she remembered more, now, having spent some time with them. Willow's hair had been gloriously long, and Xander had always been cracking an inappropriately timed joked. There had been another girl – Caroline? Carmine? No, Cordelia – that was it. Buffy wondered where she was now. A shadowy recollection of Angel. Her mother, warm and comforting and then harsh, sending her away. In retrospect, she understood why. Her mother simply hadn't understood. Being a mother herself had given her insights that she would never otherwise have gained.

But the memories of Spike were by far the most vivid. She closed her eyes and hugged herself. Spike fighting her. Spike smirking at her. Spike in a wheelchair. Spike in his leather duster, his only faithful companion. Spike smoking. Spike sitting uncomfortably in her lounge exchanging polite words with her mother.

Spike kissing her.

It had been so strange. She never would have done it normally. Not then. She hadn't been the kind of person to just…jump someone like that.

_She'd just left her house, possibly for good. She needed to get to the library, to pick up the sword that Kendra had brought._

_Her throat tightened. Kendra. Her sister slayer would never again use the sword, or her stake 'Mr Pointy', or take a shower or slay a vampire or –_

_Enough. She couldn't think about this now. She had more important things to deal with – like her ex-lover and the end of the world._

_She reacted automatically when a shape slid out of the shadows near her, swinging her leg around to kick the attacker's legs from under it._

_"Bloody hell!" came a familiar voice. "You got a problem with me walking, pet?"_

_Buffy stepped back warily. "What are you doing here, Spike? I thought you were going back to the mansion." She watched him stand; saw his concern with a sort of detached confusion._

_"I heard you and your mum fighting," the vampire said. "Wanted to make sure you're alright. That you're not going to back out on our agreement," he added quickly on her sceptical look. "Are you?"_

_"Of course not."_

_He took a step closer to her; she didn't step back, unwilling to show just how emotionally vulnerable she was right now. "Right. Sure, pet." He smirked. "That's why you've not hit me yet."_

_"I can, if you want me to. But I'm not…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Just go away, Spike."_

_"No. Not until I'm sure you're up to this, pet." His honest answer surprised them both. She blinked several times, and started to turn away. His hand shot out, grabbing her arm. "Don't."_

_"What do you want, Spike?" she demanded wearily. "Another round of taunt the slayer? 'Cause I've had it with you – with all of you."_

_His lip curled. "Slayer, shut up."_

_"Make me!" she snapped. And he did. His lips descended on hers, and he pulled her close. He could feel her pounding heart, and she could feel the lack of his. She could feel his cold hands on her forearms, then her waist, sliding under her shirt, as she lifted her hands and pulled him even closer, responding almost hungrily to his touch._

_They'd pushed their way through the bushes into a cemetery, and he pushed her up against a mausoleum. She pushed his duster off, wanting to feel more of him. He pulled her shirt over her head, aware that she wouldn't be able to get another one easily. He kissed her again, hard, and nipped along her jawline. She moaned when he lathed her jugular with his tongue. She pushed his shirt aside with nimble fingers and clutched him closer as he kissed her again, and again and again. Her bruised lip split, and he sucked the blood from the wound._

He took her then, up against the hard brick, and she loved every minute of it. Loved the feel of him, loved his strength, loved the fact that he didn't hold back, didn't treat her as if she were made of porcelain or glass, as Angel had. Loved the fact that he expected her to give as good as she got.

After sixty-seven years, it still got her hot to think about it.

She turned away from the high school. She'd acted so sure of herself with Glory, demanding that the goddess guess her name. But now she wasn't so certain that she really did know who she was.

* * *

Please review. 

Coming next chapter:

Charlotte doesn't act her age.


	19. Family

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I'm so sorry for the long wait, everyone. I had an exam in college, and then my mum cracked a rib, and it all just got rather hectic! Thanks for all the reviews.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Family

* * *

Max yawned and slouched even more in his chair. "What time is it?" he asked the room in general, glancing around the shop.

"Nine twenty," Jake answered after checking his watch. "Charlie, could you call again?"

Charlotte made a face. "Don't call me that," she admonished, getting to her feet. "I only called five minutes ago, you know." She went to the phone never the less and dialled her mother's number. She was informed – for the eighth time – that the phone was switched off. She muttered a curse under her breath. She dialled another number – Ella's – to check that the children were all right.

"She'll be fine," Dawn put in, tilting her chair back. "She's probably still at the hospital. You know what doctors are like." She glanced at Spike anxiously, all the same. Of all of them, the vampire was probably the most worried. She thought she had an inkling of why, but she'd wait until she'd had a long talk with Buffy before laying her theories out. "Xander, Tara, have you guys found anything yet?"

The two Scoobies shrugged.

"There's nothing here," Xander told her, faintly disgusted at the books. "Just a load of useless words."

"Words aren't useless," Dawn rebuked him, lifting an eyebrow. "Tara, anything?"

Tara frowned slightly. "The problem is, Dawnie, that she's never really been written about. She cannot be named – she pre-dates the written word – but even after man started writing, there are only allusions to her."

"People were too scared to write about her," Angel put in from his spot, watching out of the front windows. "It's happened for other demons, other terrors." He didn't look at them.

"Not him, though," Spike couldn't resist saying. "He wasn't too scary – right, Angelus?"

"Shut up, Spike," was all the reply he got. For once Spike did so – the bonds of family and blood sometimes meant something, even to him.

Charlotte put the phone down and turned to Max and Jake with an angry expression. "Max, she should be back by now."

Max shrugged. "You can't keep tabs on her, Charlotte. You know what she's like."

"She should be here by now!" Charlotte snapped. "There's a hell goddess out there gunning for her, she should be here doing research with the rest of us, not gallivanting off somewhere, probably fucking someone as we speak!"

Max's mouth thinned. "Charlotte, would you care to retract that?"

Charlotte struck a defensive pose. "No." She lifted her chin in a Buffy-esque manner. "I don't. It's true, and you know it."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Charlie," Jake murmured wearily. "Just shut up, please, before you dig yourself into trouble."

"She's already in trouble," Ethan commented from behind the counter. "Two mates and a lover here, not to mention her sister?" He shook his head, staring at Charlotte with something akin to regret. "Stupid move, Charlotte."

"Does it look like I give a damn?" Charlotte retorted. "My mother is missing, we don't know where she is, and she ought to damn well be here." She started pacing. "The last time Mom did this she was –"

"What?" Max cut in with a great deal of bitterness. "Fucking someone? Grow up, Charlotte. She was with Dave. Are you blind?"

Charlotte stopped, stunned. "She was what?"

Jake was likewise startled. "She was with Dave last time? Not voluntarily?"

"No, of course not," Ethan said after a moment when it appeared that Max was not going to answer. "You know she would never harm Dave, for Hattie's sake."

"She'd never kill the father of her child again," Max added. "Not after what killing Alex did to you." He looked seriously at her for a moment, then turned to look at his son. "Jake, would you and Charlotte go for snacks, please? I could do with a caffeine boost right about now."

"Yes, fine," Jake said quickly before his half-sister could object. "If Mom shows up – "

"We'll give her hugs and kisses," Spike broke in, thoroughly bored. "Get donuts." Angel rolled his eyes. "What? I'm up for a bit of sugar."

"Me too," came Buffy's quiet voice from the back door. Her saddened gaze told everyone that she'd caught the exchange between her family. She ignored them, however, and looked at Willow as Jake pulled Charlotte out of the door swiftly. "Any luck in the research department?"

"Uh, no," Willow said slowly. "Not really."

Buffy nodded calmly. "Alright. Faith is patrolling, I presume?" Giles answered in the affirmative. "Then I'll go out too. If she comes back here, tell her…tell her that I'm still working on that thing I told her about yesterday." She glanced around. "Keep working on it."

"Buffy, are you –"

Buffy interrupted her sister. "I'm fine, Dawn. You just…work on leading with your left, alright?" She glanced at Max. "Maybe Max or Angel will help you," she suggested.

"Are you alright to patrol?" Ethan inquired quietly.

"'Cos you look all with the broken arm," Anya offered cheerfully. A reluctant smile tugged at Buffy's lips.

"I'm fine," she assured them. "Spike'll be with." She turned her eyes onto the bleached vampire, who hadn't looked away from her since she'd entered. "Right?" He nodded silently. "Good. And then, um, Max, could you…" She faltered, glancing at the door.

"I'll talk to them," Max nodded. "Jake'll be alright, but Charlotte…"

Buffy gave a wistful smile. "She's too much like Alex," she commented. She wanted to be able to stretch her arm, but the cast prevented it. She'd have it off within a few hours, she predicted. "Spike, are you ready?"

"Sure thing, pet," Spike nodded, stepping close to her and inspecting her carefully. "Your arm alright?"

She nodded. "It's fine. I'm fine." She looked up at him, eyes widened expectantly, and with a smirk he delivered the expected kiss. "Better now."

"Then let's get going."

* * *

Please review?

Coming next chapter:

Spike asks some questions.


	20. Immortal

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Again, very sorry for the long wait. I've caught bug after virus after 'flu, and then I've had university applications and open days flooding in (yay, I got offers from all five of the places I applied to!). I've also stumbled into a little bit of writer's block – I know what's going to happen, but it won't let itself be written.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Immortal

* * *

They walked side by side through the cemetery, each stealing covert glances at the other. It was a quiet night, for which they were both grateful. It would give them a chance to have another chat – and this time, Buffy knew, Spike wouldn't hold off asking the difficult questions.

"So," he said finally.

"Buttons on ice cream, see if they stick," Buffy said automatically. Her grandsons, Zach and Toby, had drilled her in the use of that ridiculous phrase. She blushed as Spike raised an eyebrow at her. "Sorry. Grandchildren…"

"S'weird to think of you with grandkids," he observed. "Hell, it's weird to think of you with kids at all – not Hattie, that's easier." He glanced at her. "She at least looks younger than you."

Buffy grimaced. "Do we have to go to that one first?" she asked. "Couldn't we go for something easier?"

He shook his head. "There isn't anything easier, pet, an' you know it."

"Yeah, well, can't blame a girl for trying." She tried to pick at the edges of her cast, but Spike firmly pulled her hand away. "Sorry." She sighed and looked around hopefully for a vampire or two. None were forthcoming. "Right. Um. The non-aging thing." She sat on a gravestone and swung her legs. "It's…kinda complicated."

Spike chuckled. "I figured, pet." He patted his pockets, searching for his cigarettes. "I thought maybe it was something to do with the blood they got you hooked on, but then the others have aged."

"No, it's not…well, it's mostly not because of that," Buffy agreed. "The blood is part of it – activated something. I didn't understand it until about three years ago." She paused. "I guess I'll have to start at the beginning."

"It's always a good idea, luv." He found a cigarette and lit it. "Let's start with what happened when you left Sunnyhell, shall we?"

"Right. Well. You know I left because of Angel." She sighed, trying to scrounge her memories together. "I don't remember much about the few weeks after that…I drifted around. Was in LA for a couple of days, then took a flight over to New York…" She shrugged. "It's not important. I ended up in Cleveland for a while – you know, the other Hellmouth?" He nodded. "And…I got sucked into Phtygiktha. There was a fight…some demon…I don't remember exactly, but one minute I was in Cleveland, and the next moment I was in this…hell dimension." She let her hair fall forward, obscuring her face from Spike. "I was young, and I was confused, and I was trying to deny who I was. So I went along with it. I was a slave. A worker. A breeder, too, but that came later. I didn't conceive until Alex and I…" She shrugged. "By then I'd been there fifteen years or so, and it was obvious that I wasn't aging. Then it didn't matter so much…I met Alex, and I was happy, and then I had my daughters, and there was Max, and Jake, and Simone…and all the others. So I wasn't alone anymore. But they kept growing older, and I never did."

"Must have been tough," Spike observed. "Watching those you love grow old. And die."

"Yeah, well, you should know." She glanced up at him. "Sorry."

"S'alright. Keep going."

"Yeah. Well, I didn't know what was going on. I didn't have any idea. Then Ethan came."

She remembered that vividly. Fourteen years ago – in her memories, anyway. She'd not been on rotation, and Simone had also been on a rest break.

_"I should…really go make sure Toby's alright," Buffy murmured into her lover's hair. "He had a fever."_

_Simone smiled mischievously up at her. "Dave's watching him. You're all mine, buttercup."_

_"Always." Buffy smiled warmly and moved her head so she had access to Simone's neck._

She shook herself. "Yeah. So Ethan came. Found me and Simone at once. We were still…together, then. We grew apart after we got out, when I wouldn't let her close." She shrugged. "We all changed, coming out. But then I had questions. About…about why I hadn't changed. Why I hadn't, and they all had. So Ethan helped me answer those questions, a little. He didn't find much. The Rakeshia blood slows down the aging process, but not enough for me to still look like I was eighteen years old." She reached up and touched her scar. "With a few exceptions, of course. Stretch marks never fade." She tried for a smile, but only got partway there.

"But for the past twenty years or so, I've been having…dreams. Slayer dreams. Not prophetic ones, just…" She shrugged again. "Telling me things like…I need to understand. That I was never supposed to be in Phtygiktha. That…that I needed to find out who I am." She raised haunted eyes to meet Spike's gaze. "I didn't understand. Not until recently. When I dreamt of…the First Slayer."

And hadn't that been a laugh and a half, she reflected. The First Slayer had tried to kill her in her dreams, and had even tried to move to Dawn, connected by oath and blood to her. Buffy suspected that had she been in this dimension, the First Slayer would have tried to kill every member of her clan as well.

"No friends," she said softly. "Just the fight...I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute...alone."

Spike frowned. "Uh, pet…?"

"There's trees in the desert since you moved out. And I don't sleep on a bed of bones."

She shook herself suddenly. "Sorry. Um. Dreams. First Slayer. Yeah." She frowned, trying to gather her thoughts. "Where was I?"

He discarded his cigarette and moved closer. "Something about the First Slayer, in your dreams, helping you understand." His voice was low, and she wanted to get lost in it.

"Right. So I, uh, was getting these dreams…and then finally I understood. Dawn helped, actually. There's something in me…something primeval. Something ancient and undying. Unliving, maybe, I haven't quite figured that out. But…it's the part of me that…is the Slayer. Comes from the Slayer, from the First." She paused for a moment. "And it…got altered, with the Rakeshia blood, and with me living so long. It…mutated. Into something else." She looked up at him. "_I'm_ something else."

He stared at her seriously for a moment, silently letting her know that he understood and accepted, then smirked. "I always knew that, luv. You're something else entirely." She let out a shaky sigh and rose, tucking her head under his chin.

"You know what," she said suddenly, "I've got a question for you, too. How did you get a soul?"

Spike broke away from her with a laugh. "You mean Niblet didn't tell you, in ten years? Not a peek?"

"Nope." Buffy smiled, all innocence. "She said you would tell me when you were ready. I told her that you and I don't get along, and she said that we'd better, because you're like her brother, and she's my sister, so technically we're clan."

"Hey, that reminds me," Spike said suddenly. "I've been thinking – "

"Never a good thing," Buffy interjected, eyes twinkling. He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry. Please continue, without hurting yourself."

"Ha bloody ha. How is it, pet, that I'm – well, that Hattie thinks – I'm an Alpha if I'm not dependant on Rakeshia blood?"

She bit her lip. "Um. That part I'm not so sure about." She brightened. "Ooh, but I know who would be! Dave!"

Spike's expression changed from curious to angry in a split second. "Dave as in the little bitlet's father? As in your abusive ex?"

Buffy nodded meekly. "He's…he did a load of experiments and theories and stuff…he knows more about the blood dependency than anyone, even the guards, even the hell gods…he and Toni…"

"No fucking way."

"Spike, please, you asked me for a reason – you're right, it's important, and if you are an Alpha – if you are _my_ Alpha –" She broke off, tears in her eyes. "If you are my Alpha, Spike, then I can't lose you. I can't lose you, and it won't stop, it won't go away until we're together, and it's forever, and you've had so long to deal with being around forever, but I haven't, and none of my relationships have ever worked out, and I'm scared, I'm scared that this fight with Glory is going to kill me, because the only way I know how to kill her is by dying with her!"

Startled, he calmed her the way instinct was screaming at him to: he took her in his arms and kissed her.

* * *

Please leave a review in the little box...

Coming next chapter:

Scooby talk.


	21. Conversation

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter notes: Thanks for all your lovely reviews. I'm currently stuck at home with a 'flu-like virus and have no voice, so I'm writing a fair bit. Two chapters in the last two days, go me! So I'm twelve chapters ahead of what I've posted onto I'll try to keep updates more regular.

* * *

Chapter Twenty: Conversation

* * *

"It's just…so weird."

Willow nodded. She, Xander and Giles had gathered in the Summers' kitchen. It was nearly two in the morning, and Buffy and Spike had yet to return. Everyone else was asleep, or pretending to be.

"I know," she confirmed. "I mean, Dawnie…she's older than we are now, and that's…"

"Rather difficult to get one's head around," Giles confirmed. "She's changed…well, not overnight, but in the space of a few hours from our perspective. She's grown up."

"I like her hair," Willow commented randomly. "It's short, and…spiky."

"Only with hair gel," Xander pointed out. "Yesterday when she came through that portal, it was kinda fluffy." He reached over and grabbed a handful of cookies. "But Buffy…"

"Yes. Buffy." Giles took a cookie himself, but didn't eat it. "I was prepared for a change in her…we've all changed, and four years is a long time, relatively speaking, but I hadn't expected…"

"None of us expected," Willow nodded. "I mean…fifty-three years in a hell dimension?" She shook her head. "I can't imagine…I don't want to imagine."

"She's changed so much," Xander muttered. "She looks different, she acts different…"

"Well, part of that is us, of course," Giles pointed out. "We've changed. We remember her as a seventeen year old, through the eyes we had then. But she's a grown woman; she has children and even grandchildren. She must have seen and heard unspeakable torments in the hell dimension. We can't possibly expect her to be the same."

"Parts of me are."

The three in the kitchen turned to see Buffy leaning against the kitchen doorpost. "I'm not so different," she continued, moving into the kitchen. "Ooh, cookies!" She slid onto the vacant stool and grabbed a cookie. "Mm, chocolate." She closed her eyes for a moment in bliss. "You have no idea how much I missed chocolate." She opened her eyes and looked bashfully at the three. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Xander dismissed. "We'd all be the same."

Buffy gave a surprised smile. "Xander. You've grown up so much." She frowned. "Although I guess that's pretty much a duh."

"Pretty much," Willow nodded, obvious uncomfortable. Buffy gazed at her for a moment, then sighed.

"This is weird," she observed. "Maybe…maybe this wasn't such a good idea…" She rose. "I should…go. Let you guys talk."

"No," Xander said quickly. "No, stay. Join in the group thing." He met her eyes hesitantly. "Like it used to be."

Buffy managed a smile. "I seem to recall us hanging out as a group often entailed demons and research."

"Not always," Willow defended their past staunchly. "Ooh, there was that time with the…um. And the thing with the…" She trailed off. "Okay, mostly demons and research, but there were other times. Fun times."

Giles raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. Torture, death, and mayhem."

"And all-night research parties," Xander pointed out.

"With donuts," Buffy remembered. "Giles always used to steal all the jellies." She smiled at her former Watcher – or was he still her Watcher? She wasn't sure.

"How much do you remember?" Giles inquired softly. She shrugged.

"Bits and pieces. It…I dunno. The important stuff, I guess, if you can call anything that." She took another cookie and began the process of breaking it into crumbs. "I remember…the high school. Some of it. And…and mom, and hyena-possessed Xander, and dancing at the Bronze, and Angel, and fighting Spike, and Xander getting me the rocket launcher, and Miss Calendar, and more Angel…" Her voice trailed off. "I guess you figured out why I left. After Angel came back. With his soul." She looked up at Willow. "Even then, you had so much power. I can feel it, now – the Rakeshia blood…Ethan's taught me some things, and some things I figured out myself." She paused. "And, um, that was so completely beside the point. Sorry."

"It's fine," Xander dismissed. "You can't just not talk about sixty years of your past when you're talking to us, Buffy." He frowned. "Annie."

Buffy shrugged – or as much of a shrug as she could manage with one arm in plaster. "Buffy's fine. I have so many names, it's confusing no matter what."

"How's that?" Xander inquired.

"Huh?"

"How come you have so many names? When you left, you were just Buffy Anne Summers."

Buffy frowned. "Wow. I'd forgotten my middle name." She smiled. "Thanks, Xander." He nodded. "Um, I have so many names because of various things I am. And have been told I am." She frowned. "Not sure that was grammatically correct, but hey, I never finished high school."

"No, 'cos of the whole being expelled thing," Willow nodded. "And then the not coming back thing."

Buffy winced. "Yeah. Um. Well."

"You don't have to explain anything, Buffy," Giles said quietly.

"But I do." She stared at her hands. "I really do. I owe it to you, and to myself." She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. "I'm trying to be…more honest with myself about who I am." She looked straight at Giles. "And who I am is sometimes scared. Sometimes can't cope. And doesn't ask for help enough. And ran away from her family without giving them any…" She shook her head. "I was such a silly little child," she muttered scornfully.

"You were a young woman in pain," Giles corrected. "Your reaction was completely understandable."

"Maybe," she whispered. "I was going to come back. I thought…just a little time away, clear my head, get some things sorted…and then I got sucked into hell, and when Ethan pulled us out…I barely remembered you guys. So I didn't know how to come back. How could I come back and be the same person for you? I'd killed my lover. I'd watched my child die. I'd done things…" She broke off. "I'm not the same person. You're right, Giles. I'm not the same. I've changed." She reached across and touched his hand. "But I…I missed you guys. So much."

Willow touched her arm tentatively. "We missed you too, Buffy. We missed you a lot. And we looked for you for so long…I guess we couldn't find you because you were in Ph…that place."

"And Ethan put spells over me to make me untraceable," Buffy added.

Willow blinked. "Right. But we never stopped missing you, Buffy."

"Not for a moment," Xander confirmed. "Not when Willow's evil vampire twin came visiting – "

"Not when the Mayor turned into a snake –"

"Not when there was a secret government operation underneath the university – "

"Not when Faith tried to seduce Angel – "

"Not when Giles slept with Joyce – "

"Giles what with who?" Buffy screeched, a look of disgust and outrage on her face. "Oh Haghd. Oh god. I did not just hear that." She stood up and went to get a glass of water, then paused. "Although on second thoughts, I can't actually talk about sleeping with people…"

"Not from what I hear," Xander said agreeably.

* * *

Please review! Reviews help me write faster!

Coming next chapter:

Angel has a word with Spike.


	22. Exchange

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Well, I have most of my voice back, which is very good. I can now yell at my little brother again when he comes into my room wanting to borrow 'Friends' episodes. Go away, you little jerk! Ahem. Thanks for all your lovely reviews, especially Demonica Mills (I forgot to say this last chapter) for being full of 'yay' for my university stuff! Also Kirina, because she finally got round to reviewing – probably because she knows I'll hit her with my crutches on Monday if she hadn't…

* * *

Chapter Twenty-one: Exchange

* * *

"Spike, m'boy, I want a word."

Spike winced. He'd hoped to get into the shower without Angel noticing him. Fat chance.

"Angel. Mate." He turned, clutching the clean towel as if it would shield him from his grandsire. "Thing is, I was just goin' to have a shower…"

Angel calmly took the towel from him and steered his grandchilde into the bathroom, it being the only available room at the moment. "The shower can wait, William."

"But I really – "

"William!"

"Fine," Spike muttered, knowing better than to cross Angel when he got like this. "What is it?"

"Buffy."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Of course it is. Why didn't I guess?" He pulled his shirt off and turned on the shower, fiddling with the temperature of the water before shucking his pants. "So, what about her?"

Angel rolled his eyes at Spike's lack of modesty. "I want to talk to you about her."

"So bleeding talk already."

"Fine." Angel was already annoyed, and he hadn't even started. Spike's capacity to get on his nerves never ceased to amaze him – with or without a soul. "You've been all over her since she got here."

"Haven't," Spike said defensively. Then: "What's it to you? You don't still love her, do you? After four years?"

"And you don't?" Angel shot back. Spike stilled in the shower, then shrugged and continued washing.

"Whatever that means, Peaches."

"You know exactly what it means." Angel scowled. "You think I didn't smell you on her, when we were fighting? I did."

"I know." Spike lathered up his hair. "Why d'you think I ran so quick? Knew if you won…"

"Doesn't matter," Angel said quickly, unwilling to bring up past injuries. He and Spike had – mostly – sorted out their murky history and put it behind them. "But you…you've loved her since then."

"Since before then," Spike admitted after a moment. "You told me, once…you said to kill her, you have to love her. And by God, I wanted to kill you for saying that. Because I loved her. I'd fallen, good and hard, the way I always do. But I didn't want to kill her."

"If you had, she wouldn't have got away the first night you fought," Angel observed. "When you set your mind on something, you carry it through."

Spike chuckled. "Yeah. Got the soul to show for it, don't I?" He rinsed his hair, turned the water off and stuck his hand out for the towel that Angel duly handed to him. "But I'm thinking you're not here to hash out old memories."

"I need to make sure you're not going to hurt her."

Spike stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. "Oh, you mean like you did?" he mocked. "'Cos technically speaking, it was you that got her landed in that hell dimension."

Angel growled low in his throat. "You'd best leave that thought alone, boy," he warned, a little of his old Irish brogue showing through.

"Fine," Spike shrugged, picking up his toothbrush. "What do you want to know? How I'd die before letting hurt come to her? Congrats, you've heard it." He scowled into the basin. "I mean, sodding hell. Didn't even want to do that for Dru." He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering his sire. "Problem is, she thinks she's gonna die fighting Glory." He turned to face Angel. "And I'm not going to let that happen."

"She what?" Angel demanded incredulously. "She said that to you?"

"Will you two keep it down?" Dawn demanded, swinging the door open. "Some of us are trying to sleep. And if you wake Hattie up, you can deal with cranky Buffy."

"We'll be quiet," Spike nodded. "Sorry, Bit."

"Fine. Just shh!" She left and shut the door firmly.

"I swear she didn't used to be so bossy," Angel commented.

"Uh, mate…"

"Oh, except when we took her shopping."

"Yeah." Spike dropped the unused toothbrush. "Look, Angel…I don't want to…I mean." He paused. "You've still got a claim over her. She doesn't know it. But you do. And…and I love her, and if I have to fight you for her…I will." He stared straight at the older vampire. "But I don't think I'll be alone. She's Alpha – the clan leader. And they say I'm an Alpha too – though quite how that works I'm not exactly sure." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. She's everything. And if I need to fight you for her, don't think I won't. Don't think I won't drive a stake through your heart before letting her go."

"And Buffy? What does she want? Or doesn't that matter?"

"She doesn't know what she wants," Spike muttered. "That's part of the sodding problem." He leaned against the wall. "But I think we're gonna find out soon."

"Why's that?" Angel wanted to know.

"Because tomorrow we're going to meet her ex."

Angel frowned. "Her ex?"

"Yeah."

"As in Hattie's father, the ex?"

"Yep."

"As in the abusive ex?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh, this should be interesting."

* * *

Please review! It makes me so happy!

Coming next chapter:

Buffy and Dave talk.

Spike and Buffy get some answers.


	23. Clan I

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks for all the great reviews. This chapter is…well…quite probably really confusing. Feel free to ask questions in reviews. I might even answer!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: Clan I

* * *

They all gathered in the old skating rink. It was really the only place big enough to host them all, because as soon as Buffy had called Jake to let him know she needed him to bring Dave to her, Jake had informed everyone else what was going on. They all refused to leave Buffy alone with Dave. She told Jake to tell them that she wouldn't be alone, that she'd have Max and Spike and Dawn and Ethan…but that didn't appease them. So the abandoned skating rink was filled with nearly a hundred and fifty people, including two irate vampires, several powerful witches or warlocks, a number of small children (being carefully watched away from the potential torture scene) and one pregnant, pissed off Slayer.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ella queried, shooting wary looks at the gagged and bound brothers Dave and Tom. "I mean, I know you want some answers, Annie, but there are other ways…"

"Sweetie, there really aren't," Buffy answered, shedding her jacket and pulling on a pair of shiny brass knuckles. "Besides…he's had this coming for a long time." She glanced over at the children. "Just…make sure Hattie doesn't see this. Any of this."

"You're not going to kill him, are you?" Ella demanded worriedly. "I mean…he is human."

"She has a point," Giles chimed in. "The Slayer is not permitted to kill humans, Buffy."

"I'm not doing this as the Slayer," Buffy informed him. "I'm doing this as me. As Buffy, as Annie, as Alpha, as clan leader." She looked at Ethan for a moment. "I should have done this before," she admitted to him. He smiled faintly. "But I didn't know. I didn't understand." She turned back to face her ex. "Now I do."

The adults among the clan watched as she marched up to the brothers and punched Dave, hard. His head shot back and blood began to pour from his nose. He glared at her furiously, but couldn't speak because of the tape over his mouth.

"Here's how it's going to work, Dave," Buffy began quietly. "I'm going to take the gag off. We are going to have a nice, quiet, _polite_ conversation about Rakeshia blood and the mate bonds, and then I am going to gag you again. You do all this without insulting me, you get to keep your teeth. You do all this without insulting my daughter, you get to live. Understood?" He nodded. "Good. And Dave, just in case you didn't get it? You see the guy with the bleached hair?" Dave's eyes moved to Spike and he nodded. "Even if I don't kill you, there's no guarantee that he won't. Or Ethan. Or Max. Or any number of my clan. You get me?" He nodded again. She reached out and ripped the tape off his mouth.

"Shit," he swore. "Bitch! That hurt!"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm so bothered. I care so deeply about your pain." She put her hands on her hips, making sure Dave saw the brass knuckles. "Mate bonds. Start talking."

Dave slouched – as much as he could whilst tied to a chair. "What about them?"

"Specifically? Alpha bonds."

Dave's eyes narrowed. "You're kidding me. Annie the slut has finally found her forever guy? Gimme a break."

Spike started forward with a growl, but Faith held him back. Buffy's face remained impassive.

"I warned you," she said quietly. "I'm not the same person I was ten ye – uh. Ten days ago. I'm not taking your crap anymore, Dave. Start talking, or I start using my nice new toys."

"Or I will," Dawn called out helpfully.

"Quiet, Dawn," Buffy ordered. "Alpha bonds, Dave. How are they formed?"

"The same way as regular mate bonds," Dave answered mulishly after a moment. "The two people make a claim, anyone who disputes it speaks up, blood is shared and the bond is made. You already knew that, with three mates." His expression showed that he would have liked to add some choice words to his sentence, but he wisely left them unvoiced.

"Yeah, I already knew that." She narrowed her eyes. "But that's between two of our kind. Dependant on Rakeshia blood. Changed. Sylnapht."

Dave's eyes widened. "You've got to be joking. You want to mate with a regular person? Someone not in the clan?"

"Keep your opinions to yourself," Buffy ordered, bringing her arm up and punching him just hard enough to split his lip. "What if it's a bond between someone dependant and someone not?"

Dave spat out a tooth. "It's impossible. It can't happen."

"It is happening," she said quietly. "He's an Alpha."

"It can't happen," he repeated. "The mating system comes from the Rakeshia bonds. From the blood. The urge to mate can't happen in someone who isn't dependant, and Alphas have to have the urge to mate." There was part of him that loved thinking about puzzles like this.

"What about…what if it's a vampire?"

Dave looked disgusted suddenly. "By Haghd. You've fallen for a vampire? You're even more of a slut than I thought!"

She punched him hard. Blood poured from his nose again. "Answer the question," she said coldly, eyes starting to glow white.

"I don't know! It could happen – blood – blood connects, blood binds…"

"Blood is life," Spike agreed from behind her.

"Blood is death!" Buffy snapped. "Would it be enough to make vampires Alphas? Or mates at all?"

"Probably," Dave bit out. "I don't know. Not for sure. The only way…compare the blood. Do a test. To see if it's got the same primal base."

"That's it? That's all you know?" He nodded, and with a vicious expression she punched him again, and again until he was unconscious. Then she turned and met Ethan's guarded eyes. "So. Test. Fine."

"Annie – "

"Where's Toni?" she demanded. "She's best at this sort of thing."

"Annie –"

"What?" she said at last, turning to look at Max. "What, Max?"

Max shifted uncomfortably. "I was just…gonna ask how your arm's holding up."

"Oh." Buffy lifted her left arm and moved it about a bit. "A bit sore, but alright." She looked a bit bashful. "Sorry, Max…" He nodded acceptance. "Um. Yeah. So, someone find Toni?" Max nodded again and disappeared into the crowd to find his daughter. Buffy turned to Spike. "You alright with this?"

"What exactly is 'this'?" Faith inquired. "I mean, I'm down with beating on the guy, but testing blood?"

"It's just a magickal screening," Buffy explained. "To see if vampires and Sylnapht have the right base to be able to mate." She glanced at Spike. "If the blood isn't…I don't know. If it doesn't match, there's something majorly weird going on."

"Does it matter if…whatever you're looking for isn't there?" Tara wanted to know.

"If it's not, Spike is something of an anomaly," Giles commented. "Ethan filled me in," he explained to Buffy on her look. "But then again, Spike always has been fairly, uh…"

"Strange?" Angel offered, smirking at the other vampire.

"Hey!"

"Sorry. Did I say strange? I meant to say abnormal."

Toni pushed her way through the crowd. "If the vamps are all done with the testosterone, we could get started now." She hugged Buffy. "Hey, Auntie Annie. How's it going?"

"Fine. And don't ever call me that again." Buffy kissed her niece's forehead. "You up for some magick?"

Toni looked Spike over critically. "He's a hottie. If you can't bond, I'll go a round." She quailed under the combined glares of Spike and Buffy. "Okay, maybe not…"

"Toni, stop being an idiot," Max spoke up fondly. "Get the blood, do the spell."

Not turning to face him, Toni made a face. "Yes, Pops."

"Don't call me that," Max said automatically. "Get on with it, Toni."

"Fine, fine." Toni muttered a word and pulled from the air three vials and a sharp knife. "Annie, you going first?" Wordlessly Buffy held out her hand palm up. Toni nicked it carefully and let the wound drip into two of the vials. "Here, hold yours," she instructed, giving her aunt one vial. "Spike, right? C'mere." Hesitantly Spike moved forward. "It's just a nick," she assured him. "Hand out." He obeyed silently, and let her move his hand to drip blood into the empty vial. She took the two and looked carefully at both Spike's and Buffy's blood. "Okay, Auntie, give me your vial." Buffy duly passed it over. Toni very carefully poured the a few drops of Spike's blood into it.

There were a few moments of quiet as the two types of blood mixed, giving off a few bubbles. Then the blood exploded, spraying Toni with shards of glass and boiling blood. She gave a small shriek of surprise.

Spike leaned towards Buffy. "Were we expecting that?"

Buffy looked just as stunned as he did. "Um, not so much." Her hand snaked out to hold Spike's. "Toni? Are you alright?"

Toni let out a whoop and shook herself. "Boy, that was a blast! Can I do it again?"

Buffy stared. "And you're how old now? You're acting like Zach!" Zach, her grandson, was seven. "Are you hurt at all?"

"No, just scratches," the young woman answered, running her now-empty hands through her bobbed hair. "But sheesh, Auntie, you could have warned me!"

"Warned you about what?"

"About his blood! And your blood!" Toni was nearly dancing with enthusiasm. Sarah and Max exchanged weary glances from behind their daughter. "I mean, wow! The things that could be done! The healing properties, and the magicks, and the bond – by Haghd, the bond!"

"Toni, honey, I'm kind of thin on patience right at the minute," Buffy said quickly as her niece paused for breath. "Give me answers."

"Has he ever bitten you?" Toni questioned, looking between the two. "Or tasted your blood?"

"Never," Giles denied instantly. "He never got close."

"Um, Giles?" Buffy didn't look at her old Watcher. "There was, actually…one time…"

"Just the once," Spike hastened to add.

"And it was just a little bit…"

Giles removed his glasses and began cleaning them. "I see. And when exactly was this?"

"Four years ago," Angel told him quietly, eyes on Buffy. "Just before I tried to destroy the world." He looked at Toni. "Is it important?"

"Very," Toni nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "See – and I may be wrong here – I think there was a bond formed between you two before Annie was in Phtygiktha – only not a mate bond, because Annie wasn't a Sylnapht. A vampire bond. Vampire families are similar to our clans, right?" Angel nodded. "But then Annie went into Phtygiktha and became dependant on Rakeshia blood. From your perspective, Spike, she was gone…really only a few weeks. So she came back, and the bond kept growing between you, but because she was now a Sylnapht, and an Alpha, somehow…it got transferred to you too."

Buffy shook her head blankly. "Lay it out for the dumb blonde."

Toni rolled her eyes. "The way I figure it, Spike had the potential to be an Alpha if he was ever to be a Sylnapht. When you became one, that transferred along the bond that I could see in the blood – the vampiric bond. So Spike isn't a Sylnapht, except through his connection with you. Because he's a vampire, he has in effect become a sort of quasi-Sylnapht."

Ethan sighed. "What she's saying, Annie, is that you and Spike already have a bond," he explained. "So your blood was made compatible. So you can mate, and he's an Alpha."

Spike turned to Buffy with a pleading expression. "Can I eat him now, love?"

* * *

Please review! It was such a nice long chapter for you!

Coming next chapter:

Dave _doesn't_ get eaten.

Glory catches someone.


	24. Clan II

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this out. If it wasn't one thing, it was another, and then I hit some writer's block on the storyline, because I'm coming to a close on it (that's about fifteen, sixteen chapters ahead of this one, though, so don't worry!). I'm hoping to get it all finished by the end of Easter holidays, and then posted by the end of April. No promises, though.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Clan II

* * *

"We should have a clan meet," Buffy observed, looking over her family. "Since we're all here. We haven't had one in a while."

"Not a full one," Max nodded. "Not since Marian was born, actually." He smiled over at Ella, who was glowing with a kind of self-satisfied air. She had, a few minutes before, punched Tom. "Besides, I think we need it."

Buffy frowned and surveyed the clan again, feeling out along the bond. "You're right," she said at length. "I should have…dammit, I'm such an idiot."

"Hardly," Sarah snorted. "You've had stuff going on. We get it."

"Well, still." Buffy chewed on her lip. "Right," she began, turning to the Sunnydale crew. "Clan only, people. So Ethan, you're in – Giles too?" Ethan shook his head after glancing at the Watcher. "Faith, you can stay, and Dawn of course. Xander, Willow, Tara and Anya – you guys are gonna have to stand outside with Giles. Angel too."

"What about the kids?" Toni wanted to know. "Zach and Hattie and the others?"

Buffy shrugged, careful of her left arm. "Anyone that's old enough can stay – ten or over? The others…" She turned to Willow and Tara. "Would you mind keeping an eye on the children?" she asked. "I wouldn't ask, but we really need to do this, and some of them are just too little."

"Sure," Willow agreed enthusiastically. "Uh – how many?"

"I'll get them," Max said swiftly. "A dozen or so, I think – no, more. Jake and Samantha's twins aren't quite ten yet, are they?" He drifted off to retrieve the children. Willow looked a little daunted.

"Don't worry," Buffy assured her. "They're all – um. Mostly very well behaved. Just don't let Hattie and Zach try to dress up Marian or any of the other babies, and you'll be fine."

"What about me, pet?" Spike asked from behind her, hands gliding down her arms.. "You need me to go?"

She didn't look at him, revelling in the feeling of safety and love and rightness that she was getting from him. "Uh…"

"You're distracting her, honey," Toni grinned. "Sorry, Uncle Spikey. You can't stay until you're formally mated."

Buffy twisted in his arms and kissed him gently. "Unfortunately, she's right." She cupped his cheek with her hand, thumb rubbing over the scar that crossed his eyebrow. "Soon," she promised. "Soon."

Then she pulled out of his arms, leaped onto what had been the counter of a MacDonald's, and cupped her hands around her mouth. "People! Listen up!" She paused as the clan slowly quieted down, and waited a moment longer as Willow and Tara, helped by Spike, shepherded the children out of the former ice rink. "Clan meet," she announced. "Everyone take a seat. Anyone with a problem, come up to the front." She sat on the counter, ignoring the piles of dust. "Sarah, can you find a bowl or something kind of container?" Sarah nodded and disappeared into the back of the MacDonald's. "And Toni, can I have your knife?" Toni duly handed over the knife she'd used earlier to cut Spike and Buffy.

Buffy took the metal bowl that Sarah handed to her, and carefully reopened the cut on her palm. She let a few drops of blood fall into the bowl, then she passed it and the knife to Max. They would be passed around the clan until everyone had spilled some blood.

She should really do this formally…but quite frankly she could still sense Spike, just outside the door in the reception, and she wished she were out there with him.

"Okay," she announced, going for the quick and easy way. "Who's up?" When a too-thin woman nearing her thirties stood up, Buffy knew she was in trouble. She slipped into formal speech quickly. "What are your words, beloved?" she asked quietly.

"I am Chantra, sister of Simone," the woman began, following the ritualised method of speaking to the clan Alpha at a clan meet. "I come with a grievance."

Buffy cursed silently. "Your grievance will be heard," she answered formally. "Speak, Chantra, sister of Simone." This was not going to be pretty.

"My sister is dead," Chantra began, "by her own hand, but I have cause to believe another was ultimately responsible."

Buffy felt her mouth fall open. She didn't – she wasn't –

"I accuse the Alpha of driving my sister, Third Mate, to her death," Chantra said ruthlessly. "Of neglecting her duties as a mate and as an Alpha."

Silence reigned. Nobody was quite willing to say anything after Chantra's brutal allegation. Ethan stepped closer to Buffy, silently offering his support. He was the only one.

Finally Buffy found her voice. "What proof?" she rasped, unable to form all the words needed for the formalised structure. "What…why are you saying this? I loved her with every molecule of my being. And it is not my fault that she –" She shuddered. "People die. That's life."

"Simone died because of you," Chantra spat. "It's your fault."

"No…"

"And you haven't even mourned!"

Buffy's hands started trembling, then her arms and her legs until all of her was shaking. Her eyes turned white. Ethan and Max started a familiar chant as one, trying to forestall the grief-laden hurricane that Buffy could become.

"I mourned," Buffy growled. "In Phtygiktha, alone, I mourned!"

"She did," Dawn nodded, staunchly defending her sister, unaware of what exactly was happening here.

"Quiet," Sarah hissed at her. "You so don't wanna get in the way of this!"

"What's going on?" Faith demanded.

"Basically?" Toni responded. "Annie and Chantra are going to have it out. Full-on bitch fight."

"Only with magick," Sarah added.

Although there was nothing outward to show it, huge magicks were building up between the two women. Buffy's eyes were still white, but her body was now still and under tight control. She slid onto her feet.

"Take it back," she hissed.

"Make me," Chantra returned.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt the pissing contest…" Buffy faltered at the sudden interruption. Spike came towards her with deadly intent. "Actually, no I'm not. We've got a problem."

"What is it?" Max asked, seeing Buffy was in no fit state to answer the vampire. "What's happened?"

"Glory," Angel answered grimly, shepherding scared and crying children into the room. "She took Hattie."

Buffy felt as though the air had been knocked from her lungs. Her legs gave way and she fell to the ground and slumped over. Glory had Hattie. The hell goddess, the one creature she wasn't sure she could beat, had her daughter. Her flesh and blood. Her child. Her child, like the one growing in her womb.

She was vaguely aware of people crowding around her. She could feel Chantra's demanding gaze on her. Could hear Max saying something. Could hear the whole clan talking, crying, shrieking, making sure the other children were okay.

Spike was crouched in front of her, his cool hands cupping her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. She pulled away. She wouldn't – couldn't – accept his comfort. Not now.

She moaned, a sound that turned into guttural, primal scream. The magicks that had gathered around her exploded, sending everyone flying into the walls.

And then she collapsed onto the floor, staring blankly up at the ceiling, catatonic.

* * *

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Coming next chapter:

Hattie and Glory face off.


	25. Irritation

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Again, sorry for the delay. I'm absolutely wiped out – so much that writing is sporadic. It's irritating, because I've got about five chapters left to write, and then I'll be done. Ah well. It'll finish eventually.

Chapter Twenty Four: Irritation

Hattie sat in the corner of the room, knees drawn up to her chin. She didn't know where she was, but she knew who the lady on the couch was. And she knew she was very, very afraid.

There were lots of ugly wrinkly demons in the room. She counted one, two, three, five, six. If she was big and strong like Mommy, she could hurt them. But she wasn't big and strong, even though she did eat her spinach, like Popeye.

The nasty lady had shown up just a little bit after Papa Max had told her to go with the witches. Spike had gone with her too, and she liked Spike. He had funny hair. He'd told her that she should help Willow with Marian, and that he'd be close, and then he'd gone to talk to the other man – the one that was even older than Spike.

She hadn't understood why the grown-ups had all gone still and scared until she turned and looked at the door. The lady was looking straight at her, ignoring everyone else. Spike had rushed at her, but she'd shoved him aside as if he weren't any bigger than a fly. Then she'd scooped Hattie up as if she were just a kitty, and had run out of the old building and through Sunnydale. If Hattie hadn't been so scared, she would have quite liked it.

She closed her eyes. Maybe this was a nightmare. She'd had nightmares before. Some of them had been really scary. Mommy had said that they had an ematic bond, or something, and that she was picking up Mommy's dreams. Maybe this was one of Mommy's dreams.

Hattie didn't think so. The lady was too bright to be in a dream.

"Hey, little girl!" Hattie's eyes widened even more as the lady addressed her. "Get over here!" Hattie pushed herself to her feet and slowly walked over to the lady. The lady was looking at her with a smile that made Hattie want to shiver. She didn't, though. She was in charge. She was a mini-Slayer, just like Mommy. "Hey, little girl, what's your name?"

"Hattie. Mommy said not to talk to strangers."

"I'll bet she did," the lady said. "I bet Mommy takes care of you real good, huh?" Hattie nodded silently. "But see, honey, I'm not a stranger. You know me, don't you?"

"Yes," Hattie said quietly. "You're the bad lady."

The lady laughed. "Honey, you don't know the half of it." She reached out a hand and fondled Hattie's dark curls. "You've never been to my own dear sweet home, have you, sweet pea?"

"No," Hattie whispered. "Mommy said it was a bad place. Clan came from there."

"That's right, honey. I'm from there too. You know what I am?"

"A god."

The lady cooed. "Aren't you just the smartest little button?" She leaned forwards. "I bet I could ask you all sorts of questions, and you'd be able to answer them, huh?"

Hattie nodded slowly. "Like Uncle Max teaching me?"

"Uh huh, whatever." The lady inspected her nails. "So, honey, question one. What's Mommy's name?"

"Annie Alexis Robinson," Hattie recited. "But sometimes Buffy Anne Summers."

The lady scowled. "Yeah, those names I already knew, pipsqueak. Any others?"

Hattie frowned. She wasn't sure she should be answering this lady's questions – but if she didn't, she knew it would be bad. Like when her father came.

"She's a slayer," she said slowly. "An' Alpha…"

The lady's eyes lit up. "She is? Oh, that _is_ good news!" She swung her legs around and stood up, stretching leisurely. Hattie took several steps back. She didn't like tall grown-ups. The goddess lady was taller than Mommy – but that wasn't hard, as Mommy always said. "Now, honey, are you hungry?"

"Thirsty," Hattie muttered. "Want cranb'rey juice." Her lip trembled. "Want my mommy."

"Aw, crap, you're not gonna start whining, are you?" She snapped her fingers and one of the wrinkly demons ran up. "Get the kid some juice. And some food."

"Cranb'rey juice," Hattie insisted. "An' ice cream." The demon bowed deeply and backed away. Hattie smiled slightly. She was going to get ice cream before lunch! Although, she reminded herself carefully, she should still be scared. She chewed on her lip as she remembered the stories Charlotte had told her about the goddess lady.

"Now, honey, let's do some more 'Q and A', alright?"

Hattie nodded slowly.

""Now, you're a smart little girl. I bet you know all kinds of things." The lady narrowed her eyes. "Like if there's a demon in the room, or if someone's a vampire…or a Key."

Hattie frowned. "Keys are small."

The lady rolled her eyes. "They can be, yes, when they're made of metal and are for opening doors. I'm talking about a different kind of Key." She slid off the couch and kneeled so she was eye-level with the child. "This Key is made of green, shining energy."

"What's energy?"

"Ugh. Magicks. You can do those, I've seen it."

"Uh huh."

"And you can see them too. So, little girl, have you seen anything that's made of green lights? It could look like anything on the outside. A stone, or a dog, or a plate…"

"Traffic lights have green lights," Hattie observed, looking around the room and wandering towards a dressing table. "Maybe it's that."

The lady rose and stalked towards her, steering her away from the dressing table. "It's not a traffic light, pipsqueak. The Key is new to this world."

Hattie frowned. "Like the baby?" She climbed onto an armchair and bounced experimentally. "Mommy's going to have a baby."

"I already knew that. What are you, hyperactive?"

Hattie jumped off the chair and went to peer out of the window. "What's hypractive? Wow, lotsa grass. Wanna go play."

The lady put her hands on her hips. "No. You're talking to me about the Key, or – " She caught sight of the demon returning. "Or you don't get your ice cream."

Hattie scowled. "I don' like you. You're mean, jus' like Charlotte said."

"Kid!" The goddess grabbed Hattie by her shoulders and shook her. "Will you listen to me already?"

"No."

Please leave a review!

Coming next chapter:

Scooby meeting.

Spike tried to find Buffy.


	26. Disturbed

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter notes: I am actually nearly finished the writing of this. Which is yay for me, since it's been a long time since I started this and I want to move on to other projects – not least of which is my A levels in two months time! I'm currently eight chapters ahead of posting, and there's (I think) four chapters or so left to write. So, keep reviewing, 'cos it helps me write!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-five: Disturbed

* * *

They were all gathered at Dawn's house. The Scoobies plus Buffy's closest clan members – which meant Max, Jake, Sarah, Ethan and Toni. Marcus and Charlotte had both begged off in favour of making sure the other children weren't too traumatised. 

Buffy had been carried into the house by Spike. She lay on Dawn's bed now, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. She'd not spoken a word since being told that Hattie had been taken, nor had she moved of her own accord.

"It's nothing to do with the blood dependency," Max said in the crowded front room. "Or the bond, or the clan. There's nothing I can do to get her out of it by any of our bonds. It's something else."

"Something magical?" Willow ventured. "Because, maybe there's a spell we could find…"

"No," Ethan said sharply. "No magicks are worked on her. Not without her say-so." He stared out of the front window. "Toni, would you make coffee?"

"Sure, Ethan," Toni nodded, subdued. She went through to the kitchen. After a moment Dawn followed her.

"Why can't we use magic on her?" Anya demanded. "If it would bring her out of this stupid trance thingy…" She pursed her lips together as Xander gave her a look. "What? I'm just saying! Buffy's being all 'me me me', and I –"

"Her daughter was taken by a hell goddess," Sarah cut in. "Do you have any conception of how painful it is? To watch a child be taken away, be tortured, be killed? And to know that you couldn't do anything to stop it?" She closed her eyes and leaned into Max's arms. "And this isn't the first time for Annie."

"But there's nothing she can do while she's comatose!" Anya retorted.

"Anya has a point," Angel ventured. "Shouldn't we get her to a hospital?"

"Over my dead body," Jake told the vampire with a thin veneer of civility. "Back off."

"Hey," Faith jumped in. "No need to be jumping on each other's throats."

""Well, I wouldn't have been if –"

"I really think that we –"

"Ethan, can't you –"

"You're being completely unreasonable –"

"Shut up."

The two terse words from Spike cut through the arguing people like a knife. All eyes turned to him, but he continued to stare at the floor. He sat at the bottom of the stairs, smoking. Nobody had wanted to remind him not to smoke indoors.

"Glinda, Red. Find Glory," he said after a moment. "She's got to show up on a locater spell. Rayne, help them. Faith, Peaches, patrol. I don't want anything getting in my way later. Watcher, research with the Whelp and Demon-girl."

"What do you want us to do?" Max asked wearily, referring to the clan members. "We can help research…"

"Fine. Whatever. Just…keep out of Dawn's room, no matter what you hear." He finished his cigarette and stood up. "Find something for me to use against Glory." He ran a hand through his hair as Toni and Dawn returned. "Nibblet, do me a favour?"

"Sure, Spike," she nodded, subdued.

"I need, uh, two candles, a china bowl, and a sharp knife."

"What for?" Dawn asked, even as she went to a cabinet for the candles.

"How the hell do you know about Dragna trances?" Sarah demanded incredulously. "It's – it's one of the most secret – "

"Buffy told me," Spike realised. "Somehow she told me…" He shrugged and took the things Dawn held out to him. "Doesn't matter. Get cracking, people."

With that, he turned and strode up the stairs.

The room was dark, but Spike didn't turn on a light. He could see well enough. He put the supplies for the spell on the end of the bed by her feet, then knelt on the floor next to the head of the bed.

"I'll help you," he promised. "God knows why I'm doing all this for you, Slayer, but…but I'll help you."

He lit the candles, then took the knife, and after carefully lifting Buffy's wrist to rest on the rim of the bowl, made a small cut, just enough to draw blood. He nicked his own wrist, and pressed the cuts together.

Something washed through him, and he managed to ground out the three words of the spell before succumbing. "Let – me – in!"

_Spike turned around several times, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Two men and a woman were chained to the walls of what appeared to be a well-lived-in cave. Buffy stood with her back to him, a sword in her hand._

"_Buffy? Pet? Come on, we've got to get you out of here," Spike said finally, stepping towards her. "Hattie needs you."_

"_She's dead," Buffy said matter-of-factly. "Excuse me." She brushed past him and walked to the first man: Angel. Or Angelus?_

"_Go on," Angel encouraged her. "Do it."_

"_I already did," she whispered sadly, and shoved the sword into his gut before pulling it back. He choked, and then chuckled wryly before disintegrating into dust. Buffy moved to the next man, and Spike followed anxiously._

"_Alex," Buffy greeted the man softly. Spike frowned. This was Alex, Buffy's first mate? He was tall, red-haired and scarred all over his visible skin. _

"_Go on, killer," Alex said calmly to her. "Go on."_

_Buffy tilted her head slightly and repeated her earlier words. "I already did." This time she raised the sword and sliced it cleanly through her First's neck. Spike flinched at the blood that sprayed over the petite Slayer._

"_Buffy, what are you doing?" he demanded. "C'mon, luv, you need to snap out of it."_

_She glanced at him. "You don't understand," she said patiently. "I couldn't expect you to." She moved to the last person chained, the woman. Simone._

_Simone smiled slightly. "Go on, buttercup."_

_Carefully Buffy made two cuts on Simone's wrists. The life slowly bled out of the woman. Buffy put the sword down and turned to Spike._

"_Come on," she said lightly. "There's places I need to be." She reached out her hand and he took it uncertainly. _

_They walked through a doorway that had suddenly appeared in the rock face, into a bright playground. Spike shielded his eyes, but the sunlight didn't hurt him. He looked around at the swings, the climbing frames, the slides…the children._

_There were four children. A redheaded girl of about six – clearly Alex's daughter – was on a swing. A blue-eyed, blonde-haired girl – she was perhaps four, and strongly reminded Spike of Charlotte – pushed herself around the roundabout. A little boy with Buffy's eyes and Max's hair was hanging from the monkey bars. And Hattie stood on the steps to the slide._

"_Mommy! Watch me!" she cried out._

"_I'm coming," Buffy replied absently, going to the redhead. "Amelie…"_

_The girl – Buffy's first child - tilted her head and slipped off the swing. "Go on, Mommy." _

_Spike reacted on a visceral level when Buffy reached out and, holding the child with one hand, placed the other over Amelie's mouth and nose. He turned away and retched. Even he, in his most evil days, had never killed the children of his family. Amelie struggled for a minute, then fell, pale and cold, to the ground. _

_The boy, Jake, was next. Spike could only watch, helpless, as Buffy snapped his neck, then directly went on to snap Charlotte's neck too. _

_Hattie slid down the slide and came to stand in front of her mother, looking up with trusting eyes. "Mommy?"_

_Spike stepped in front of Buffy. "No, pet," he told her heavily. "Stop this. You didn't do this – you could never do this."_

_Buffy shook her head patiently. "I did," she explained, and stepped past him. She hugged Hattie to her, and then pressed the girl's face against her stomach, smothering her. "I did this, Spike."_

_Hattie's body dropped to the ground. Spike wanted to shake Buffy, but she slipped out of his reach. _

"_You didn't do this," he growled. "Hattie's not dead! Charlotte and Jake aren't dead!"_

"_But they will be," Buffy said with certainty. She looked up as the sky grew dark swiftly, and then she turned expectantly towards the cemetery that had sprung from nowhere. "He's coming."_

"_Who?"_

"_A dream is a wish your heart makes," came the mocking tones of the Master. Spike was halfway to his knees before he realised the Master wasn't paying any attention to him, and that this wasn't real anyway. "This is real life," the Master continued. "You still don't understand your part in all this, do you? You are not the hunter. You are the lamb."_

"_I know," Buffy whispered. Her hand went to the scar on her neck – Spike only noticed it then. He bared his teeth in a possessive growl. She'd been marked – by the Master. Must have been when she'd died. The scar opened suddenly and started bleeding._

_  
"Buffy!" He was at her side in a moment, trying to stop the bleeding. "No, pet, don't you dare –"_

_They were in the cave again. Angel, Alex and Simone were chained to the walls. _

"_Buffy, why are we here?" Spike demanded wearily. "Hattie needs you – we need you. What are you trying to tell me?"_

"_This is what I do," Buffy explained. "The First Slayer was right. I am destruction…absolute…alone. No friends…just the kill…we are alone." She hefted the sword again and went to Angel. _

"_Whoa, pet, hold on." Spike ignored Buffy's actions as she stabbed his grandsire. "What are you on about?"_

"_She comes in my dreams," Buffy told him. "Tells me what I am. And she's right." She looked at her three dead lovers. "I kill the ones I love. I drive them away from me." She went to the door and stepped into the playground, and Spike was helpless but to follow. "I killed my children."_

"_No, Buffy. Jake and Charlotte are still alive – Hattie's still alive!"_

_The scene played out just as it had before. Buffy killed the four children, then looked at Spike. "You don't understand," she said patiently. "This is what I do. I kill people."_

"_No," he snapped. "You kill evil things. Not people."_

"_I gave up, Spike, and now Hattie's dead."_

"_She's not dead, you silly bint!" Spike exclaimed, exasperated. "Not yet! You can still save her, you bloody little idiot!"_

_Buffy blinked at him, then as the sky darkened, she turned to meet the Master. "She's dead, Spike," she said steadily. "And so am I."

* * *

_

Please review!

Coming next chapter:

Research and flirting.


	27. Worrying

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Sorry, once again, for the delay. It's all the fault of 'Doctor Who', I swear. I'm really really close to being finished now, though, so updates should possibly be getting a bit quicker.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six: Worrying

* * *

"There's nothing here, this is useless!" Jake exclaimed, slamming the book shut. The others barely spared him a glance. "Uh, hello? Anyone listening?" 

"No," Max said curtly to his son. "Keep reading."

"Dad, there's nothing here."

"So look in another book," Sarah snapped. "Stop bothering your father."

Jake scowled. "Like you even care," he muttered.

"Stop it," Giles snapped, finally looking up from his own text. "Either shut up or get out. This is serious."

Jake sighed. "Sorry. I just…my sister's been kidnapped by the Beast, my mother's catatonic…I'm not exactly on top form, here."

"Auntie Annie's going to be alright, isn't she?" Toni asked in a small voice, looking between her parents. "Mom?"

Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "She's going to be fine, Toni."

"Liar."

"Don't you talk to your mother like that," Max snapped.

"Stop arguing!" Faith cried out, exasperation colouring her voice. "God! Can't you all get along for five minutes at a time? Don't you get that this is major stuff here?" She looked around at all the people gathered here. "Look, just – go home. Go to sleep. There's nothing more you can do here now."

"Are you sure?" Xander asked her quietly.

"Yes. Go." Faith turned to Dawn, ignoring the rest of the group as the clan members slowly packed up and started to leave. "Dawnie, you're alright with sharing a bed with me for tonight, right?"

"Sure," Dawn nodded. She lifted one eyebrow provocatively. "As long as you don't mind that I sleep naked these days." She smirked at Faith's expression and disappeared up the stairs.

"That…was kinda weird," Willow commented. "Is Dawn joining the gay pride parade?"

Sarah pulled her coat on. "Not in the way you mean. Everything gets changed in Phtygiktha. Gender is meaningless to us. And Dawn is one of us now." She looked at Max. "Family. Clan."

Max nodded gravely. "Family, clan," he repeated. "Come on, Sarah, we'd better go." He shepherded his children out of the front door. Sarah closed it behind them, leaving the Scooby gang to say their own goodnights.

"You'll call if you have any news about Annie?" Ethan wanted to know, leaning wearily against Giles.

"We'll call when she wakes up," Willow promised. "But Faith's right, we really need to get some rest."

"Right." Giles dislodged Ethan and pulled his coat on. "Xander, we'll pick you up in the morning – eight thirty. We'll do more research then."

"Fine," Anya said impatiently. "Let's go, before Xander gets too tired to give me orgasms."

"And we all ignore that," Angel commented dryly. "I'm heading downstairs. Faith, you okay to lock up?"

"Five by five," Faith nodded, ushering Xander and Anya to the door. "C'mon, G, skedaddle."

"Call if Annie wakes up," Ethan threw over his shoulder as he and the Watcher left. Faith nodded and closed the door behind them with a sigh.

"We're gonna head up," Tara yawned. "A-are you alright?"

"Fine," Faith told her shortly. "Just going to grab a snack. Sleep tight, yeah?" The blonde witch smiled at her friend, nodded, and disappeared up the stairs, following her redhead lover.

Faith went into the kitchen and locked the back door before opening a cupboard. She was in the mood for something sickeningly fattening, but there was little of that in the house. Money was tight. Although she could have sworn there were still some chocolate biscuits around here somewhere…

"Faith?"

Faith whirled around, arms snapping up defensively, before she realised who it was. "Geez, Dawn. When did you get so quiet?" She pulled the half-empty packet of biscuits from the cupboard.

"Lots of practice hiding from the guards." Dawn moved past her to the fridge, taking out one of the bottles of Rakeshia blood that now half-filled the fridge. She poured some into a mug and put it into the microwave to warm up. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"S'fine," Faith muttered. "Just, uh…be careful. I have a tendency to attack things that sneak up on me."

Dawn hid a smile. "Yeah, well I'm all blood-dependant now. Got some extra strength. I could probably take you."

"You and what army?" Faith teased, hopping onto a stool, facing Dawn. "You hear anything up there?"

Dawn shook her head, pulled her mug from the microwave, and took a sip of the blood. "Nope, not a thing. Which is probably good; no screams, no sex sounds." She frowned. "Although I guess that means Buffy is still comatose."

Faith shrugged. "S'just shock, probably. She'll be fine. Five by five."

Dawn tilted her head to one side. "Five by five," she echoed. She finished her mug and wiped her mouth carelessly with the back of her hand. "You sure you're okay with sharing the bed?" she asked quietly. "I can take the couch…"

"Shit, Dawn, this is your house," Faith rolled her eyes. "If anyone sleeps on the couch, it'll be me. But no, it's cool." A corner of her mouth wanted to twitch into a smirk. "You really sleep naked now?"

Colour rose in Dawn's cheeks. "Uh, no. I was just…letting off some steam."

Making a quick decision, Faith rose and sauntered to the door before turning to look back at Dawn. "Pity."

* * *

Please review! 

Coming next chapter:

Death, daughter and love.


	28. Hope

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Yeah, so blame Doctor Who again. I've very nearly finished this, however. I'm bad at fight scenes, and that's what I'm writing at the moment, so no promises on when it'll all be done.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hope

* * *

Buffy still lay on the bed, eyes closed. Spike lay half-sprawled across her, still half-kneeling on the floor. 

_"I know what you're feeling, pet," Spike told the petite blonde. "I felt it, when I got this bloody soul back in me. It's guilt, Buffy. S'just a regular emotion, just like lust and love and anger and happiness."_

_"No," Buffy shook her head, gazing up into the sky as the last rays of the sun, again, were blotted out. "This all happened, Spike. I killed them."_

_"No!" he stepped between her and the figment of her imagination that was the Master. "Hattie is not dead! Jake and Charlotte aren't dead, thought they're bloody brats who ought to be. And Angel is still undead."_

_"I killed Alex," she whispered forlornly._

_"Yes. Because you had to."_

_"Killed him. And I watched as they killed Amelie. And I sent Angel to hell. This is all I do to everyone around me, Spike."_

_"Not me."_

_Those two simple words seemed to stump her. The dark sky seemed to shimmer._

_"You've not killed me," Spike went on. "You can't kill me, Buffy. I'm already dead." He started circling her like a vulture, eyes fixed on her as she looked down at her feet. "You can't drive me away. You can't shut me out. You can't kill me, and I won't be killed in front of you. You…The first time I saw you, pet, you were dancing in the Bronze. Fire and passion and strength and power and damn me for a fool, but I wanted you so badly it scared me – and I'm not scared by a lot." He halted in front of her. "I wanted to take you and make you mine and make sure you'd never be hurt by anything."_

_"But it doesn't work like that," Buffy murmured, finally looking up at him._

_"No," he agreed quietly. "It doesn't. But that doesn't mean we give up trying to protect the ones we love."_

_Her eyes widened. "Love? You – "_

"Love me?"

Spike lifted his head. Buffy propped herself up with her arms and looked at him, astonished. "You love me?" she repeated.

Spike pulled himself to his feet. "Didn't say that."

"You're not denying it."

Spike shrugged uncomfortably and wouldn't look at her. "Didn't say I was." She stretched out a hand to him, and he took it, letting her pull him onto the bed. "Look, pet –"

"Spike…I loved them, too."

Spike looked sharply at her, blue eyes meeting hazel, and then a slow smile crept over his face. "Slayer…"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "By Haghd, is it really that hard to say my name?"

"Buffy."

"That's better." She tugged on his shoulder and he lay down obediently, arms automatically moving to hold her. "Spike, I'm scared."

"I know. Me too."

Buffy raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Liar."

He shook his head. "Buffy, Hattie...she's a sweet kid. And I like her. More importantly, she's part of you, and there's no way that bitch is gonna take anything more of yours."

"I don't know if I can fight her again."

"You did pretty well, pet," he pointed out.

"Not really." Buffy tucked her head under his chin. "I…there's things that…I haven't told you about me. That I haven't told anyone. Things that even the Watchers haven't figured out about slayers. I thought I'd worked it out, but I haven't, not completely. And I can't defeat Glory until I do."

"What do you need?" Spike asked softly.

"Time." She sighed. "We don't have it. But I'll settle for you."

He pulled away, faking indignation. "Settle? Settle? Just you wait, Slayer."

Buffy smiled faintly. "I love you. You know that, right? I don't know how exactly – the time we've spent together is actually, if you think about it, very little…but I do love you."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know, luv. I love you." He kissed her gently, hand tangling into her hair. "Now, pet. How're we to get Hattie back?"

Buffy moved a hand to rub her abdomen gently. The swell was more prominent in this position, and Spike could hear the baby's faint heartbeat. He had sudden image in his mind of her swollen with his own child; of tawny-haired, blue-eyed children swarming around her in the sunlight. He shook it off. It couldn't happen.

"I don't know," she was saying softly. "I think…I think I'll need help from the bond."

"They'll do anything for you."

"Yes." She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. "But I can't…I can't leave her there all night. Maybe I can reach her…"

Spike clasped her hand, fingers entwining. Somehow he knew what to say. "I will be your support and anchor."

Surprise lit up her face as she opened her eyes to look up at him. "I will lean on you," she finished the ritualised words. Then she closed her eyes and reached out with spirit, soul and mind to her daughter.

"**Hattie? Hattie? Harriet?"**

"**Mommy!" The feeling of a hug drifted through the bond between mother and daughter. "Mommy!"**

"**I'm here, sweetheart," Buffy reassured her daughter. "I'm coming to get you just as soon as I can. Do you know where you are?"**

**Images of a large building, richly furnished rooms, the ground from a window, flashed between their minds.**

"**That's a good girl," Buffy cooed. "There's my brave girl. Are you hurt at all?"**

"**No. She gave me food." The taste of ice cream flooded Buffy's mouth. Hattie was better at transmitting feelings and senses than she was at actual words. "She wants to know about her." Dawn, as seen from Hattie's perspective. "But I won't say anything. She's nasty."**

"**That she is, pintsize." Spike had joined them somehow – Buffy didn't know how, and didn't puzzle it out. His presence was warm and supportive, and Hattie's trust flowed around him. "Are you sure she's not hurting you, pet?"**

**A swell of images hit them: Glory asking questions, Glory getting angry and killing a minion, Glory sending Hattie with another minion, who put her into a bed and told her to sleep. Buffy – or her body – heaved a sigh of relief. **

"**Listen carefully, Hattie. We'll come to get you just after dawn tomorrow. Don't tell Glory anything, but do what she tells you to. Don't give her a reason to hurt you. Like Jake tells you about the guards in the Bad Place, remember?"**

"**Yes."**

"**We love you, pintsize," Spike added seriously. "Keep holding on to that, yeah?"**

"**Yes, Daddy Spike."**

The shock Spike felt at the name given to him by Hattie jolted them out of the trance-like link. He fell off the bed with a startled yelp. Buffy blinked down at him.

"Uh…you fell off the bed," she said innocently.

"She called me daddy."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled him back onto the bed. "Why not?" Spike glared at her. "She's a smart child, Spike. She sees things." She shivered suddenly. "She's special, she's my little girl…she's…she can't…" A tear drifted down her cheek, swiftly joined by others. Spike rose and gathered her into his arms.

* * *

Please review! 

Coming next chapter:

Preparing.


	29. Preparations

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: I am so, so sorry for the immensely long gap. So much stuff has been going on in my life, and things just got way out of control. They still are, really, but I've spent today re-reading this fic, and the thought struck me that hey, I actually can finish this and update it. So. Here we go.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Preparations

* * *

She was a warrior, and by God she looked it.

Spike was perched at the bottom of the stairs, just out of reach of the sun's harmful rays. He and Angel had been necessarily excluded from the rescue party, but it at least meant that he was able to watch Buffy prepare.

An impressive array of weapons was laid out across the couch. Dawn was sharpening a pair of bone-handled knives whilst Faith tested the balance of a sword. Ethan and Willow were conferring over spells that might – or might not – work on Glory. Tara and Toni, who had discovered an abundance of common interests, were cooking up protection charms for the least battle-worthy of the group. Giles and the others were keeping out of everyone's way, doing research in the dining room.

But it was Buffy who drew Spike's attention again and again.

She wore the clothes she had worn on her abrupt exit from Phtygiktha, several days before. All of it was made of some kind of leather that clung to her body and showed all her curves. Buffy had adjusted it with a spell so it fit better over her slightly rounded womb. Spike had, after Buffy's sobs had receded during the night, laid his head on her stomach and listened to the tiny heartbeat of the child within. Two knives, similar to Dawn's, were strapped to her back. Her hair was tied in an intricate weave of braids. An axe and a sword sat waiting her inspection.

"Has anyone seen the troll's hammer?" Faith demanded of the house in general, rummaging through the weapons trunk. "I swear I left it in here…"

"Well, nobody's moved it," Angel told her as he passed. "It's too heavy for us." He looked at Buffy, who was currently whittling some stakes. "Buffy, can I have a word?" Buffy nodded, glancing up at him briefly. "In private."

Spike stiffened instantly, but Buffy sent him a soothing look and rose. "Sure, Angel. Basement in two?" Angel nodded and headed down to what had been for several months his bedroom. Buffy stepped up to Spike and cupped his cheek. "Yours," she intoned softly. "Don't worry about it."

He nodded slightly, and covered her hand with his own. "Don't go giving the brooding poof any ideas," he said roughly. "An' don' be too long. Hattie needs you."

Buffy tapped his nose fondly. "Don't make fun of family," she admonished, and leant down to kiss him before following Angel's path to the basement.

"What's up?" she inquired, arms curved protectively around her womb. "This isn't gonna take too long, is it?"

"No," Angel assured her. "I just…want to make sure you know what you're doing." Buffy stared blankly at him. "About…this rescue mission, and facing Glory again, and leading Dawn and Willow and the others in there when you don't know what you're going to find."

"I'm going to find my daughter," Buffy said plainly. "And Angel, it may have been sixty years, but I remember when you're avoiding the issue. Spill."

Angel looked down for a moment. "Spike."

Her eyes widened almost comically. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. You called me down here to talk about Spike?" Angel shifted his feet. "Tell me you're not serious."

"Buffy, you don't know him –"

"And you don't know me," she cut in forcefully. "Angel, you have no claim over me or over my actions."

"I know. I know that." He sighed and started pacing. "I just…I don't think you know what Spike's capable of, Buffy. The things he did when you were here – that was nothing."

"And the things I did while I was gone…that was nothing? You have no idea."

"You're right," Angel nodded. "I don't. And I shouldn't have brought this up now, but I…I worry, Buffy."

Buffy shook her head, lip curled slightly. "No. You don't get to call me that. I'm Annie. Annie, you hear me?" She turned to start back up the stairs, but he caught her arm, swung her around, and kissed her.

The kiss brought back memories of when she'd done this before. In the cemetery, in her room, in his apartment, at the Bronze, in the stacks of the library. Anywhere and everywhere. Something deep within her gave a howl of triumph. It was like coming home…

But this wasn't her home anymore, and she pulled away decisively. "No," she said. "No, you don't do that. It's been sixty years, Angel, you don't do that anymore." He stared at her, unrepentant, and she looked at her feet for a moment before returning her gaze to his face, smiling slightly. "Do you remember…d'you remember that time. I must have been…sixteen. Spike had sent those…assassin people after me, only we didn't know that yet. It was just before Kendra showed up."

"Yeah," Angel said cautiously. "What about it?"

"You took me ice skating," Buffy reminded him. "I felt so free…it was incredible, that you'd thought to give me that…"

She started up the stairs, then paused and glanced back at him. "That's how Spike makes me feel, Angel. Don't mess it up for me. I can't lose another lover. I won't."

Spike knew they had kissed. He could smell it on her. He stared at her without accusation, but she felt guilty anyway.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to him. "I'm all messed up…"

"Hey, B!" Faith called. "Let's go."

Buffy clutched at Spike's shoulders. "I'll be back," she said quietly.

"I know," Spike said confidently. "An' you'll bring the pint size with you."

* * *

To be continued, sooner rather than later!


	30. Pain

Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: So, another update! There won't be one for a week or so now, 'cos I'm going away over half term. I won't have 'net, and I will have five kids climbing all over me. It'll be great!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Pain

* * *

The building was empty. Glory and her minions were gone. There were a few dead bodies, some food and drinks, a few items of clothing. Nothing else showed that the hell goddess had ever been in residence in the building.

Buffy searched every room herself, even after the others had checked them.

It was in the last room that she found her daughter, bleeding and unconscious.

Now she sat by her bedside in the hospital, staring blankly at Hattie's bruised face. Her child was barely visible through the bandaging and tubing that seemed to have grown from her skin.

Spike stood nearby, ready to help if she needed him. Everyone else had been banished from the room, and they now sat or stood in the waiting room.

"She's not going to die," Jake broke the silence first. "She can't. Mom can't lose another child."

"We can't alter nature's course," Tara said quietly.

"This isn't natural," Ethan snapped. "This is a hell god trying to break Annie."

"And succeeding," Anya added tactlessly. Ella shifted Marian in her lap and glared at the ex-demon. "Well, it's true. First the catatonic thing, and now this – what did we get her here for if she can't help?"

"Take that back," Jake snapped, hands curling into fists. "If you say one more thing about my mother, I'll –"

"Jake," Max cautioned softly, not looking up from the plastic cup he held. The coffee was awful. "This is not what your mother needs right now."

Jake slumped down into a chair. "Sorry, Dad," he muttered. "I'm just…"

"Worried," Max nodded, still not looking up. "I know. We all are." He put the cup down and looked up at Ethan. "Gather the clan," he said quietly. "And find that bitch."

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Max, I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"Don't question me," Max told the sorcerer coolly. "In Annie's absence, I'm head of the clan. Gather them together."

Sarah shifted. "Max…this isn't a good idea."

"You swore," Max said sharply, eyes flashing. "You swore to her. You swore that you'd be there for her, a member of her clan, a link in the chain, one of the bonded. Are you going to turn your back on all that now?"

"No," Sarah said instantly. "Of course not. But Max, going up against Glory without Annie – it's suicide!"

"You've got me," Faith pointed out, face a blank. "That bitch hurt my sister. I'm taking her out." Max nodded his acceptance. "And," Faith continued, addressing the Scooby gang, "you guys aren't gonna stop us."

"Faith, this isn't some demon," Angel said curtly. "And you know it. You can't beat her."

"Not by herself, perhaps," Max nodded. "But with the whole clan behind her, she stands a chance."

"Not much of one," Marcus muttered. "If Annie can't – "

"Buffy would if she could," Dawn spoke up sharply. "You weren't there for ten years. You didn't see the things she did." She shook her head in admiration. "She was…incredible. More than just a Slayer. She was…she was everything. She was death incarnate. She faced the two hell gods, and she beat them back." She sighed. "Just Hattie…"

"She can't lose another child," Jake said again.

"And she won't," Max snapped. "Not if we can do anything about it. And we can do something."

"You'll do nothing of the sort." Spike crossed the room and snatched up Max's discarded cup. He downed the cold coffee with a grimace. "Wish caffeine worked on vamps." He looked over at his grandsire. "Don't suppose you've got any opiates on you?" Angel gave him one of his patented glares. "Oh, don't look at me like that," Spike growled. "Like you've never used them." He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair before looking at Ethan. "She's asking for you, mate." Ethan nodded and went to be with Annie. Spike slumped in his seat before it could be taken by anyone else.

"How is she?" Willow ventured finally.

"They've set her bones," Spike answered in a low voice. "Internal bleeding's stopped. She hasn't woken up yet. She won't be able to walk for six weeks or more. How the fuck do you think she is, Red?"

"I – I meant Buffy," Willow said quietly.

Spike gave her a disparaging look. "I repeat my answer." He stretched. "Max, if you even think about goin' up against Glory, I'll kill you myself."

Max shifted uneasily. All eyes turned on him expectantly, but he just gave a heavy sigh.

"Fine," he muttered. "But I don't see you coming up with any brilliant ideas."

"My idea right now is to keep the head of your bloody clan alive," Spike shot at him. "You want to find another Alpha? Go right ahead and find Glory. 'Cos I guarantee you, Buffy will be dead before Glory can suck your brains out." He rummaged around in his pockets for a packet of cigarettes and his lighter.

"Not in here," Dawn reminded him, snatching the contraband from his hands. "Hospital policy, Spike."

"Right." He slouched in the chair, scowling at nothing. "We need to sort Glory out."

"But how?" Jake demanded in frustration.

"Couldn't we just shove her into another dimension?" Toni suggested hesitantly.

Ethan shook his head. "Which one, dear girl? She'd wreak havoc in any of them, and do you think for a moment that Annie would allow that? And besides, to transport a god of Glory's power isn't as simple as transporting humans."

"It'd take my blood to do it," Dawn said in a low voice. "That's why Glory's so desperate to get hold of the Key. Because the blood is strong enough, powerful enough to hold a portal open and to transport her through."

"And once her blood starts flowing, the only way to close the portal is for the blood to stop," Giles put in.

"So Dawn would need to die?" Sarah clarified.

"An' there's no way that's happening," Spike said flatly. "So another alternative, please."

Toni stood up suddenly. "I have a question. Does it have to be Dawn's blood?"

"What do you mean?" Giles inquired. "It must be the blood of the Key to open the portal, that much has been established."

"Yes, I get that," Toni nodded. "But how was Dawn created?"

"The Key was put into human form made up of a combination of people," Willow said quietly. "Their essence was copied, kinda. Buffy, and Faith, and Mrs Summers."

"But my blood's not just, well, my blood anymore," Dawn said slowly. "I've got Rakeshia dependency, so I have that in my bloodstream too…"

"And if you were made of those people, it stands to reason that any blood from Annie's family – as long as it's sufficiently full of her essence, which we can test easily – would stop the blood," Toni nodded. "So at least there's a solution for if Glory does manage to start the ritual."

"Only with one slight flaw," Marcus drawled. "Which member of Annie's family is going to volunteer to die for this?"

Toni paused. "Oh. I didn't think of that." She sat back down sheepishly.

"Don't tell Annie this," Max said suddenly. "She'd die, she'd be the one to stop the blood, if she knew about it. She doesn't hear this, understood?"

* * *

To be continued... 


End file.
